Here We Belong
by Roy Fokker 99th
Summary: In the aftermath of the short story 'To Serve and Protect' found within Erico's 'From the Sidelines', the ramifications of those events remain to be seen in the world of Humans and Reploids. Ready?
1. Notes, and Introduction

On 9-3-2009, a certain author well known for his MMX fanfiction, Erico, presented a project to the community here on , From the Sidelines. Its original intent was to gather talent from the community and to write small side stories about characters either from the Mega Man X game series, or about original characters caught up in a larger series of events, either related to the games or inspired by them.

If you have not read his work, I highly suggest that you do. It is among the best written work you can find on this site. It is also relevant to the story I am working on here.

I myself wrote up an entry for FTS, and was happy to see that the Superbard himself had accepted it. I recommend that before reading this story that you read through From the Sidelines, and my entry, To Serve and Protect, that leads directly into this here. Hell, I recommend reading through all of his work in general. Other good authors that have inspired me would also include and are certainly not limited to Maelgrim, Magus523, Revokov, and many, many others who have preceded me and are my superiors. I wouldn't be attempting this had they not provided the spark for me to get off my duff and get writing. I am forever indebted to them for the years of entertainment and inspiration they have provided me.

At any rate, welcome to my continuation to the short story I provided for From the Sidelines. It is based off of Erico's own works, and will likely diverge from them at some point. In addition to my own cast of characters, there will appearances from a number of folks from his works. Hopefully, by the time this is finished, I will have crafted an interesting world for them and for you, the reader.

* * *

**Introduction**

The truth of life on Earth is that humanity remains as the dominant species, and despite the sheer destructive force it has unleashed on the planet it calls home, war is always being waged somewhere, for any number of reasons. Their reploid creations are just as affected by it. They fight eachother, Hunter versus Maverick, and they fight as soldiers against humans. It is something that would bring the late Doctor Thomas Light to his knees in anguish, to see that the future has changed so very little, and that his last living son is caught up in the tribulations that shake the world to its core.

War is something humanity has tried, time and again, to reflect upon and swear that at long last, _this_ time, the lesson has been learned. That no longer should man bear arms against fellow man, whatever the reason. In the 2040's, the world faced death on an unprecedented scale, and yet it clung on by a thread. A Second Rainbow brought hope to the survivors of that conflict, and among them, two men named Light and Wily would bring about the Age of Robots, and much later, would bring war upon one another, with the world as their battlefield. A dark history familiar to all who live in this world.

Humanity found that without a true existential threat, without something to rally against, something truly tangible and ever present that could touch the lives of every being throughout the world, the borders they lived within never disappeared. The religions they practiced, though many were similar in so many ways, still remained irreconcilable. The color of skin could never be ignored. The land one lived on was always better than your own. The resources _they_ had _you_ always needed more of. And so on went the laundry list of things that, for a short time, had been ignored.

When Wily disappeared, the world turned in on itself. The UN finally dissolved, and chaos brushed its free hand across the face of the Earth. The world managed to reign itself once more at the brink, only after a terrible cost had been exacted. The Global Defense Council would take power, and seek to enforce peace at a cost that only now have people begun to question.

In the year 2117, the world is shown X by James T. Cain. The Reploid is born from his design, and is mass-produced. Quickly, it becomes a tool for humanity in its reconstruction. Within a year, it becomes the newest threat to human existence. Lead by a former Hunter named Sigma, Mavericks make total war upon the human race, in the name of independence. By 2124, the GDC puts their new tools on trial. It is a sham trial, born of the minds of human supremacists, and they call none other than the reluctant progenitor of a species to take the stand in their defense. Against the odds, the Reploid race is acquitted of guilt in the Maverick rampages. It is an event that will never be forgotten, or forgiven, by Reploid or Maverick.

Mavericks continue their war, and Sigma rises from defeat again and again. Casualties only worsen. X and his partner Zero begin to feel the enormity of the task at hand, as do all of their comrades. Time, it seems, is on Sigma's side. As his presence continues to fade from the minds of the people, they slowly, inevitably, begin looking inward once more. Preparing for threats that may or may not exist. Terrorists still strike around the world. The GDC and its member states still deploy armies around the globe to instill order, at gunpoint if necessary. Resources continue to dwindle. It is an age of distrust, of unspoken fears. Reploids, designed to serve and protect humans, find themselves caught in the middle.

It is the year 2133, two years after the events that transpired in Erico's Demons of the Past, and closing in rapidly on 2134. Apollo, a commander reploid in the US military, lead an ill-fated rebellion against the Global Defense Council, attacking a US defense arcology in Los Angeles, California, taking his entire unit with him on his personal crusade. With the help of Mega Man X and Zero, and their respective Maverick Hunter units, and other units from the New York Hunter HQ, Los Angeles MSWAT was able to see the incident come to a brutal, abrupt end. The political fallout is immeasurable, and the true effects remain to be seen. Apollo's Rebellion may have died, but there are those who were a part of it that roam free. Like Sigma, the immediacy of their transgressions has long since passed.

Much like a singular bolt of lightning, the thunder of their passing rolls on into the future, well beyond their moment on the stage.

It has been said, incorrectly, that lightning never strikes the same place twice.

It can be said that while it does, it does not need to.


	2. Prologue

**Here We Belong**

_A Mega Man X Fanfiction by RoyFokker99th_

**Prologue: Faint Rumbling**

_She began as mere fragments, parts, individually sculpted to the desires of another. Individually, these parts came together, slowly, but precisely. She then had a face, a body, and connected to that body were arms and legs. Blue light emanated from between joints not yet sealed. Mechanical arms, guided by hand and assisted by advanced mathematical equations molded the heated titaniceramic hybrid alloy into the skeletal curves of a woman. Minutes passed, and she was whole, floating amidst a sea of others like herself, hairless, lifeless, waiting for life. Synth muscle and skin were wrapped around her structure, attached to artificial nerve endings, expanding and contracting as test currents ran through them. She was whole._

_A single mechanical apparatus lowered itself into the solution, taking her sisters away, until she, the fourth, was taken. Her pale skin was slick with the translucent fluid that coursed down her body. She was a canvas, waiting for her artist._

_More arms drew light along her skin, searing away excess along every part of her. Her featureless head covered, and light flashed into eyes not yet opened, detailing, molding, perfecting imperfections._

_She lay on her back now, eyes now open, seeing nothing, ears now hearing, but only hearing a singular loud hum of a concert of machinery. Poked and prodded in place, body lifted and shifted aside as more was added to her, optimization and enhancement. She made fists again and again. Feet and toes curled and relaxed. Her veil was removed, and finally she could see. Eyes whirred and clicked, testing their range. She looked down at herself, and saw black fabric covering her form, seeing the head of another just like her, reclined back as she was, long hair pouring from her head, then shortening suddenly, becoming a myriad of colors, testing itself. She felt her head buzz, felt her own hair hang loosely beneath her bed, then be pulled back up inside herself. Just under her breasts, a dull glow could be seen, pulsing at a regular beat._

_Her arms opened wide, then crossed. Her legs followed suit. Finally, she fell limp, as mechanical arms fell upon her, pulling her off her bed and placing her on her feet. Somewhere within her waist, another hum, pneumatics hissing quietly as her body asserted its balance._

_"Good morning." She said alongside of her sisters. Words almost too fast for her to comprehend blitzed across her vision, version numbers, equipment identification, software names, dates, places. A world opened within her mind. She knew her place, her role, and her choices available to her._

_Time passed, afterwards a single blinking line remained._

_**Confirm? Y/N**_

_"Good morning. I am Hilde. Model Number Four of Seven. I confirm."_

_Releasing from restraints One through Fifty. All mobility functions cleared. Official Activation Date October 3 2123. You are now alive. Good morning, Hilde._

* * *

Hilde awoke with a start. The sun was leaking through the blinds of the apartment she'd slept in, and her eyes clicked and whirred into focus, automatically applying filters to avoid overloading on the brightness. Reflexively, she checked her body, checking to see that her arms and legs were all still properly attached. Every time she had that dream, she always did so. It was said that reploids never forgot anything, that everything was stored in their core memory until the day they died, and even then, solid-state memory could be uploaded to external devices. The important part of her memories, her personal experiences, all boiled down to electronic data and nothing more, but she knew that even if her data was uploaded to an identical body, that person would not be her.

The security of that knowledge comforted her, but it did nothing to change how unsettling it was to remember how she was assembled.

Next to her, wrapped with blankets was the most important thing in her life: one Ricardo Sato, as human as she was reploid. A relationship that should not have worked under any circumstances, given what she knew about humans and given the history of their reploid creations. It boggled her mind that he even allowed her to sleep in the same room as him, let alone the same bed, to do nothing else but sleep or hold each other until he finally fell unconscious. He imposed restrictions on himself, denied himself the needs and wants in a relationship that any other human would satisfy by finding another of their kind. It was that willingness to change to fit her advantages and restrictions that made him as special to her as he was.

She stood from the bed as quietly as she could manage, which was pretty damn quiet. Humans would sooner hear a feather touching carpet before they'd hear the various motors within her joints working in concert with each other. If not for the distinct smells a reploid carried with their various operations fluids, she could easily approach a K-9 without being detected. Walking gracefully on her toes, she went immediately to a box with her name written on it, a card not yet in its envelope atop the half closed lid. Inside the box lay a shirt she'd seen when they had gone out together a couple weeks after the Rebellion. _You bastard, you didn't need to do this._ She pulled it on easily. He'd even gotten her size right.

He had remembered. Hilde shook her head, smiling as she flipped open the card.

_Hey you. Happy Birthday. So I'm really terrible with profound and tear inducing statements on these things, so I bought you something you wanted the other day. BTW, this is totally not last minute, like, I didn't wake up after you shut down for the night, run out to the store, and threw this together until I got lazy and or worried you'd wake up while I was trying to wrap. Which I am not bad at, by the way. Gift wrapping, I'm a pro. Happy Birthday. I'm going to bed. You can yell at me when I wake up. Love, Ricardo. _

She ran a hand along his face gently, so as not to wake him. He didn't even stir. Ricardo looked innocent like that.

Being members of MSWAT LA, their fraternization was considered somewhat dangerous, as he was easily more fragile than she was, but participated in the same kind of work as she. She was the point woman of their team, and he the rearguard/sniper. They shared a sort of symbiotic relationship in the field, one that she personally found more exciting than any other interpersonal relationship she'd had in her short life. They knew what the other was thinking or planning to do by a mere glance. In that sense, she synchronized with him better than she did with any reploid teammate.

"You're in that cute lil tank-top deal I bought you." He murmured, waking up with a smile, blinking away sleep. "You opened your present without me. Impatient aren't you?"

"Thank you." She whispered, leaning over to kiss him.

"Happy birthday. Shall I get ready for work?" His yawn was stifled as their lips met.

"In a moment." Hilde answered.

* * *

They were among the first to arrive at the new MSWAT building that morning. Now properly integrated with local Maverick Hunter Command, and essentially being the lead element for the new command structure, MSWAT didn't train nearly as obsessively as they had prior to September 10th, 2133. The specialists had many more administrative duties to perform than they did in the past. They were essentially the only official Maverick Hunters in Los Angeles that had any actual combat experience. The New Breed was still being formed out of the gestation of their own training under MSWAT professionals.

September 10th had nearly cost Ricardo his life. Hilde would never forget the memories of him falling to his supposed death, nor did she want to forget. She'd turned her fear and angst from the situation into a mental whetstone. If nothing else, the intensity of own personal training had doubled. When she wasn't training newer Hunters to think and fight like MSWAT, she trained at least twice a week with the old crew of MSWAT, and any spare time she had while on the clock was spend in simulations.

Hilde had been offered to go to New Tokyo by X and Zero to become a Maverick Hunter under their command. An offer of a potentially very short lifetime, given her line of work and the new work she'd take on under their wing. She would have accepted, had something not remained here in Los Angeles, someone, and she'd refuse again without hesitation if they asked. Her place was here, but the invite itself, and the circumstances that surrounded it meant a lot to her, even if she shrugged off the praise that came with it. Real life heroes didn't invite you into their company on a daily basis.

Short lived as it had been, Apollo's Rebellion had effects that continued on after the immediate death and destruction it had wrought. The rogue reploid General had taken his battalion of United States built reploids, all of which designed for Special Forces duties, and held Los Angeles hostage, but not before having disabling two US military installations. They targeted an arcology that happened to also house the Southwestern US Aerospace Command, and also took hostages within the Hollywood district of the megacity. Only after the GDC military response proved to be unacceptable to the US government had they summoned the help of Maverick Hunters from New York and New Tokyo to augment whatever local law enforcement had to fight back with, MSWAT. It had been the longest day for Hilde and her comrades, beyond anything they had ever prepared for, but somehow, they only sustained relatively light casualties for their involvement in an all out war.

The Global Defense Council came out of the whole debacle with more than just egg on their collective face. The AmeriCanadian Alliance was pulling over seventy percent of their overseas deployed military strength from regions in the world that weren't yet considered stable. The questions that Apollo had raised in regards to the blatant attempt at genocide of the Reploid race in 2124 remained unanswered. Somehow, despite being a Maverick, his speech shortly before his forces suffered a catastrophic defeat at the hands of the Maverick Hunters had captured the minds of observers the world over. The conduct of his forces was scrutinized. Their release of hostages, their efforts to avoid civilian casualties, the targeting of military and law enforcement personnel almost exclusively, none of it had fit the pattern of prior Maverick Uprisings that had raged across the planet. It flew in the face of Sigma's Crest that every member of Apollo's battalion had worn supposedly with pride.

The Ice Beacon issue remained a mystery, and it looked as though it would stay that way for the time being. It didn't stop the media or the simply curious from conjuring up explanations of their own.

Conspiracy theories assuming that media manipulation had gone into effect sometime over the last two months of time were rampant, but the effect on the public was undeniably profound. Hilde would not have believed it had she not seen it herself, but shirts with the solemn expression of General Apollo and his eleven lieutenants done in black on a red background could be seen on some youths throughout the city, throughout the world. _A reploid Che Guevara and his men, my God,_ she had thought when she had first confronted such a shirt. Kids with plastic replications of the signature orange beam sabers ran through playgrounds. A live action television show with twelve heroic reploid characters named after Norse gods, looking similar to Apollo and his commanders, fought for human and reploid justice would start in the Fall. It was a scary phenomenon.

Much like the human revolutionary, the truth surrounding Apollo's Rebellion would be difficult, if not impossible to come by. The exploits of his Maverick battalion before September 10th were easily found online. Of note was their participation in several African brew-ups before and after 2124. They'd done their time as peacekeepers for the human world as it found new reasons to tear itself apart daily. Perhaps that was why they rebelled. Reason after reason could be piled on. Analysis could continue for all eternity on any point of information that came to light, but to get the truth, one would need a time machine, and be able to talk to the man himself. He, like most of his command, was dead, scrapped, or repurposed. Reploids would never serve autonomously within a military again for decades to come, and perhaps that would be for the best. The return of human oversight in US reploid military affairs had gone well enough thus far, but it was a step back nonetheless, at the worst time possible, it seemed.

With the AmeriCanadian Alliance seemingly striking out on its own, the GDC was left missing some of the bite it could threaten to resort to in the geopolitical arena, something they were already demonstrably weak in. Reploid rights issues were only the start of their problems. The majority of the world was quickly outgrowing the need to rely on such an entity, but it could not simply vanish overnight. The parts of the world that had yet to truly, fully recover from the ravages of nearly a century of sustained human belligerence still needed a strong external presence to maintain order that could not be provided from within, and that was crumbling away.

_What did he really want to accomplish? You can't just get rid of them. The world doesn't revolve around reploids. We've got civil wars in Africa, the Middle East is still a mess, there's the issue in regards to the Mongolian energen reserves. The GDC is the only thing that's keeping the powder kegs unlit._

"Hilde? I got yer coffee."

_Was Ice Beacon really that big a deal? Enough to declare war on the whole organization? Couldn't be that alone. Everything I have read on the General and his exploits doesn't fit him. He was a humanist, even declared it within his private writings! Why wage war against the only human organization, flawed as it may be, that is managing to keep the world in a state that resembles order? Peace at gunpoint might not be desirable, but it's better than the alternative, for the time being._

"Hilde?"

_The Captain said once that the farther from the front lines a commander is, the less likely he is able to see the details in the big picture. Apollo wasn_'_t that sort of commander though. Everything that happened back on the 10__th__ was planned out. It didn_'_t end the way he wanted, but the act itself was executed according to a doctrine. He knew what could happen, but went through with it anyway. What would he say if he could see things now? Just as planned?_

"Hey!"

Hilde's eyes blinked, and she stared at Ricardo who sat across from her at the mess hall.

"Birthday girl's day dreaming." He chided. "Coffee's gonna get cold."

"I'm sorry." She quickly sipped from the steaming mug before her. It may as well have been black tar with how thick it was, but she didn't drink the stuff because she enjoyed it and wouldn't gladly pay exorbitant prices at a coffee shop to marvel at it's exquisite flavors. Coffee was early morning wake up juice and nothing more. More specifically, the caffeine caused a chemical reaction within her artificial blood that reduced accumulated viscosity, the cause of 'drowsiness' for a reploid of her type. "I was thinking about stuff, that's all."

"You too, huh?" Ricardo leaned closer to her from across the table, presenting a brochure from his breast pocket. "I was thinking the Bahamas. Be nice to have a vacation, don't you think?"

"Ass, don't bring that up now."

"Well, technically, I am still supposed to be on medical leave."

"Hypatia's still pissed at you about that, too."

"Yeah, well, she can deal. Most of us should be on vacation. That was bad business. _Mala suerte_ for everyone involved. Things are a bit too important to walk away from right now, so here I am, with the rest of the team."

"I guess we're all stubborn like that." She smiled, draining the remainder of her caffeine sludge. "I better get moving. Gonna be running CQB drills with the rooks of the 127th for the next three hours."

"How are they coming?"

"Well, they are reploids. They're technically as proficient as you or I at every possible thing we could expect them to be in our work, but you can't-"

"-train experience." Ricardo finished with her. "Dumb question, but I guess it had to be asked. Captain's gonna have me on the range today. Yearly buster and magpistol qualifications for non-combat personnel."

"Don't let Hypatia kill herself on accident, alright?" Hilde stood to leave, blowing a very theatrical kiss in his direction before walking away. "I suspect you'll be fine, but try not to stand to close to her on the firing line."

"Don't overdo it with yer rocket shoes, dear!" He called after her. "It'll be fine! I say fifty dollars she quals as an Expert!"

"Gambling against the odds? I love that about you, but you know what Ricky? I'm fifty bucks richer, and you're buying dinner. See you at lunch." she spun back to face him, winking.

"You'll see! Fifty bucks is steak tonight, and you'll be buying!" he shouted after her as she left the mess hall behind.

* * *

He hadn't expected to survive the ordeal; rather, he expected the worst-case scenario, as he had always been taught to do. You prepared for the worst and prayed to whatever higher powers you believed in for the best, and made do with the tools you were given for the situation you found yourself stuck in. The Captain of MSWAT, or Erebus, as he now called himself, had 'walked' away from September 10th with a single working arm, and many former comrades dead, by his hands and by newer comrades he'd trained himself. The process of his reconstruction had been swift, thanks to New Tokyo's support in getting MSWAT back on its feet in more ways than one, but the honeymoon had ended as swiftly as the arrival of X and Zero on that fateful day. MSWAT had been remade into LA Hunter HQ, and the 'Old Breed' of MSWAT had become its leaders and instructors, for now. The GDC had been unusually quiet about the composition of the newly formed command, which left Erebus with an abnormal amount of control over just how it was organized.

He actually enjoyed that. For a long time, Erebus had wanted something even more surgical, more all encompassing in a Hunter unit. It was a throwback to his days in the US Army, but he'd always wanted to expand on the concept of MSWAT, which was about as close to a real military unit as any civilian organization would approach in terms of training and capability. It was something that seemed to be lacking, and for some reason, he felt it was his direct responsibility to see this change through.

LA Hunter HQ would only be the surface. Indeed, it would be the face of enforcement for the city and most of southern California. There needed to be something more, something with more 'bite'. He'd flown the idea past Signas at MHHQ, and the commander type had looked incredulous, which was exactly what he'd been going for. He'd gone directly to the Secretary of Defense with the concept, and had gotten almost immediate approval after meeting with the President himself. All that was needed now was time.

The old MSWAT was essentially gone. It had died with Apollo's Rebellion as an organization that had been powerless in the face of such overwhelming odds, unable to prevent anything, unable to resist without external assistance, and unable to follow up on anything after it was all over. MSWAT had been a part of a world that only reacted to Maverick incidents. Simply putting up Hunter HQ's or having 'patrols' wasn't deterring anything, and with non-viral Mavericks on the rise, and with laws regarding humans and reploids being what they were, deterrence would never mean anything, it never would to those with nothing to lose and nothing to gain. MSWAT would continue to be used, it did what it did well enough that it wasn't obsolete. But after it was restored and reshaped into a larger entity than it had been before, Erebus and his Old Breed would have a different set of obligations to fulfill.

They would be more than Hunters, more than MSWAT. Replacing what they had lost during the Rebellion, they would be an organization of forty well-trained human and reploid field personnel, and just under a hundred support staff. They'd have access to any intelligence gathered by the DIA, NSA, CIA, FBI, MHHQ, and would cross train with the best and the brightest the US military had to offer, with the best of the best around the whole world. A truly offense based task force, with the goal of striking the enemy before they had a chance to cause harm. Human or Maverick, there could never be another Rebellion, regardless of the reasons. It was the sort of organization he'd dreamt of for years, something he never though possible with Uprising after Uprising, after the Rebellion, but it was his to command, in spite of everything.

_That is why you gave me the data, Apollo. You knew what you did was wrong, and you went through with it anyway, because it was the only way you could think of to bring those issues back into the public eye. You knew I could do something about it, in some small way. You knew you had set a dangerous precedent. You knew exactly what it was you set into motion, and you knew that something specific, something irregular in nature would be needed to fight it. You_'_ll be happy to know I accepted the challenge._

All they needed was time. Time to finish preparing the foundations of LA Hunter HQ, time to prepare the public face of MSWAT, and time to extend his newly found connections into the agencies he'd have to answer to. Officially, they could never exist, the standing policy of the US military was that no unit with a high percentage of reploid personnel could ever have what Erebus had managed to achieve here.

_"The Maverick Hunters do their job very well. MSWAT does its job very well. It isn't enough. We've been reacting to Maverick and terrorist incidents in the wake of The Wars. Deterrence means nothing to the enemy. They are not deterred by the size of the Hunter organization. They are not deterred by the strength of our armed forces. The organizational structure of the enemy requires something similar to it to counter. I'm proposing an irregular task force, with people I hand pick. Human, reploid, it makes no difference what they are. Raw ability counts for more than race or gender or rank."_

_"How do we trust a reploid who once was a part of the 2nd RSF?"_

_"If my own service record and the records of those in my command are not enough, I submit to you a bargaining chip in your favor. If it should ever come down to it, our information and logistics network can be set in a way that if the need arises, we can be cut off completely from any form of assistance or association with the US government. My unit would be completely at your disposal for anti-Maverick and anti-terrorist operations and investigations in regards to interests to the country, and also we would be at your mercy. I only need your approval, and time."_

_"You're absolutely serious?"_

_"I was special forces. We were trained to make what we say a reality, even if it looks impossible. Gentlemen, I'm only asking for a hundred and forty of the best people I've gathered over the last five years to be taken off the leash for the express purpose of doing what the Hunters can't do publicly and discreetly. We will get to the sources of organized Maverick crime and domestic terror, and eliminate them."_

_"You have a name for this unit?"_

_"Nothing official. It might be best if we didn't have a name or a number assigned to us. But if you want, you can call it-"_

"Vanguard. The very tip of the spear." Erebus murmured to himself, as he sat alone in his new office. Glancing at a display on his data terminal, he stood up to leave. Vanguard was already in motion, but he couldn't let his day-to-day duties suffer from inattention. He assumed it was like being a mother to a pair of growing and dangerous minded children, minus the complications of normal childbirth. "Eees naht eh toomah!" he grunted in the voice of a forgotten movie star, chuckling to himself as he exited his office. People stared at him for a moment, and went on their way. The Captain was known for that sort of weirdness.

* * *

The Blue Bomber of 21XX sighed as more 'paperwork' seemed to pile into the 'box' on his data terminal. Despite his own tendencies towards pacifism, Mega Man X had grown into a skilled warrior. As much as he didn't want to admit it, there was a part of him that enjoyed the moments where his life was unquestionably in danger, and as a whole, he certainly preferred physical activity to reading and signing off on e-reports, especially since they all read practically the same. It was getting to the point to where even Signas was considering revamping the patrol report protocols to something far less formal, but until he had approval from GDC Command, 'paperwork' needed to be filled out by Commanders all the way down to the lowliest of janitors, and depending on your actual job at MHHQ, it got more extensive or obnoxious.

_Nothing to report, nothing to report, nothing to report. Confirm, confirm, confirm. Oh, this one's good. 'Would you like some NOTHING to go alongside of your JACK SHIT?' Zero, you never change._

It was almost eerie how Maverick incidents had nearly dropped down to nothing across Japan, and around the world, things were slow in general for the Hunter establishment. Surprisingly, this hadn't lead to the immediate downsizing of the organization, but that was always something that hung over their heads. It was an eventuality, but they were going to make the best of the strength they now had, as temporary as it might seem. The grim reality was that the GDC could not afford to weaken the Hunters for the moment, more than they couldn't afford to maintain the current numbers of Hunters worldwide. With the AmeriCanadian Alliance no longer supporting the GDC militarily, it was only a matter of time before the Maverick Hunters found themselves pressed into peacekeeping duties throughout the world. Apollo's Rebellion would likely be felt for decades. Even now, Hunters based in China and Russia found themselves taking part more and more often in border patrols that focused more on the 'OpFor' across the border. It was an awkward situation. On one hand, a Hunter knew his immediate duty was to find and destroy Mavericks. On the other, Reploids, like humans, knew where they were born and raised so to speak, and as such, had loyalties to their homeland the same as anyone else. X was grateful to not have that conflict of interest to worry about.

There was plenty more than just Mavericks that threatened the world. That the human race had still not managed to unite under one banner was unsurprising. It wasn't pure stupidity as the primary cause, either. X could remember how pessimism had gotten the best of him at times during his early Hunter days, how he'd brood about humanity being too stupid or stubborn to set aside things like race, religion, material resources, money, sex, you name it. How _homo sapiens_ were just a bunch of dumb monkeys whose defining trait was it's ability to _almost_ wipe the planet clean of life several times in the space of a single century, and their ability to find new and exciting ways to be more efficient at such a goal should the need ever arise. These were the things he might have thought, especially in the darkest hours of 2124.

But the reality was that it was impossible for people to just set aside differences. It was impossible to expect needs and desires to be suppressed entirely for every single person. The human race might have believed itself to be better than the rest of the animals in the natural world, but like any animal, competition, the struggle for life over death was constant. It came in waves, was motivated by the weather, by the environment, which in turn was manipulated purposefully or inadvertently by these creatures.

There would always be disagreement. There would always be wars, and hatred was part of the parcel. As he gained more experience with the world, as he grew older, X found himself understanding how important it was to have his pacifist beliefs, how important it was that he never let them go, even while he himself wielded a cannon capable of manufacturing various types of explosive ordinance on top of an impressive control of lethal plasmic bolts that could melt down some of the hardest materials made by Man. Humans were a race of contradictions, and X, the progenitor of the reploid race, had been crafted in their image by one of the finest specimens they ever produced. Tempered idealism was better than nothing.

Once the reports were settled for the day, he could consider getting his own patrol started. After hours of busywork like this, the chance to get on a Ride Chaser and let the wind fill his ears was as close to heaven as he expected to get. It was a chance to leave behind the swelling questions that only grew more numerous as time passed.

* * *

"I suppose you are not the person I should be telling this to, but you are my father in a loose sense. I guess I will feel better about what I, what _we_ are about to do, to at least let someone know why before it starts, even if in reality you cannot hear me. Afterwards, who knows what the world will think. I was built to follow orders, built to fight, to fly, and I did so unquestioningly for years. Even when others of your species wanted to us to be destroyed, I served proudly, even as your kind threatened to tear this world apart, I served. I protected. I did good things, and I did questionable things, but I never once stopped following orders. I never once asked myself if humanity was worth the sacrifices we all made, until September 10th, 2133."

"Reploids were meant to bring about an age of prosperity, but even now, there are those among my kind and yours that work against it. Sigma, the GDC…the corruption spreads, and we, those who were built to guarantee the prosperity of humanity, sit idly by, and watch, and pretend that things are all falling into place, that everything will somehow, in the end, right itself. Forgive me, 'father'. I still feel that humans are worth fighting for, and are worth dying for. I just feel that if things are going to improve, human blood is going to have to join our own on the sacrificial altar. I wish that, more than anyone else, you would be one of those that could understand why I feel this way."

The female reploid stood up from the marker of James Cain's final resting place on the grounds of MHHQ, a lithe figure armored in black and gray, with mechanical wings folded neatly against her back. Her white hair was kept in a single lengthy braid that fell over her right shoulder, eyes golden in color. She looked around, and noticed that the reploid guard had respectfully kept his distance as she had requested, but was already on the way back. There was a possibility he heard her whispered words, but she had been vague enough. This whole thing had been a risk, but she wasn't in any real danger.

"You done?" The Hunter honor guard was an odd one. For all intents and purposes, he looked like a somewhat more oversized cowboy from the Wild West. Hunter uniform standards were incredibly lax, and the woman felt a tinge of jealousy. Where she'd come from, personalization of armor and equipment had been frowned upon. "Usually don't get too many outsiders around here." He took a swig from what appeared to be a canteen, and the woman couldn't help but chuckle at that. The guard was really going for the gunslinger look. "Not that we mind visitors around here, of course."

"I said what I needed to say. Sorry to tell you to stand aside for a moment, I know how much this place must mean to you all."

"Doctor Cain was a great man." The guard said somberly. "Were you a hunter?"

"No, just a former United States Army Lieutenant Commander in the Second Reploid Special Forces, number seven, Nike." She replied quietly, inspecting the honor guard's name badge. "I was never a Hunter, Guernica." The guard's expression hardened, the magrifle he was equipped with was immediately aimed at the former Special Forces reploid's face. His look was deceptive, but Guernica was obviously very good at his work. He hadn't betrayed a hint of surprise at Nike's revelation, and if he intended to shoot, there was no way she could avoid it. She watched, with a hint of a smile, as the rifle barrel made a minute adjustment towards the place where her control chip was hidden behind the golden jewel at the center of her forehead.

"This was pretty stupid of you, little lady. You coulda walked right on out of here, but then you had to give me a name, rank, and former affiliation to feed into the database." Guernica drawled. "You didn't raise any red flags when you walked up, so why the act now?"

"You asked my occupation. I merely answered."

"You're a Maverick."

"I'm not about to deny that."

"I ain't gonna disrespect Cain and drill one between your eyes while he's catching some shut eye, but keep in mind that the silent alarm's already up, and there ain't a chance in hell you can warp out of here."

"That is very kind of you to spare me the bullet. Unfortunately, I'm already gone, sharpshooter." Guernica's world suddenly turned black, he could see nothing. He could hear just fine, however. Her voice was now behind him. "Hunters have very complicated barriers surrounding their control chip systems. So sorry, but this is my area of expertise. I had to hack your eyes to shut them down for a moment. In a minute it'll be like I was never messing with your brain."

"This is what I get for sparing a lady." Guernica sighed, dropping the rifle and holding his hands up. "You have maybe thirty seconds before the cavalry arrives."

"Actually, I have all the time in the world. According to my diagnostics, you didn't send any signals. None that I didn't block."

"Oh. Well, damnit." Guernica let some mock frustration into his voice. "So, are you just going to put a beam saber through the chip and leave them a corpse to clean up?"

"No, you are just doing your job. I'm just going to walk away."

"You're awful strange, Maverick. You know I'm going to report this."

"The Hunter with a cowboy hat says I am strange. Of course I know you'll report this. I want you to."

"Just bombing around the world, living the fugitive life? You know, we might have treated you better than the sort of people the US military is sending after you."

"You might have." There was the sound of a warp generator coming online, and after that, Guernica heard nothing more from the fugitive reploid.

"So long, lady." His eyes regained their sight. He didn't bother turning around to see if she was still there. Leaning over to pick up his rifle, he brushed at the dirt that had gotten onto it. He ran a diagnostic his own internal database, and found that nothing had been altered whatsoever, which that alone was confusing and disturbing. She'd bypassed layers upon layers of protections, targeting his optics specifically, and left no traces of her work behind. _Guess I shouldn't expect any less from a Special Forces model. Gonna be an all nighter after this, I can smell it__._ He waited a moment, taking in the star filled sky before he opened up his emergency comlink. "Code black, code black, Cain's Memorial!"

* * *

"So she claimed she was a former short Commander of the 2nd RSF, flirted with you, and buzzed off?" Zero Omega didn't look as amused by the incident as Guernica appeared to be.

"I might be embellishing the 'flirting' part, but that, more or less, is how it went down." Zero scowled in response. "Look, my visual data is intact, alright?"

"Every single camera in the areas she could have passed through shows no records of her arrival." Zero pointed down the stone walkway that lead into the memorial. "But your data shows she just walked right on up to you."

"You're saying she wirelessly hacked every single camera leading up to where I was on post?"

"There are six other Hunters she should have passed by, according to their own statements. She also easily shut off your eyes at one point. So, not just cameras, but other reploids with your level of program defenses. I'm willing to bet she left you as the only witness to prove something to us. 'Look at me, I'm still alive, and you'll never catch me.' That sort of nonsense. Doesn't make it any more appealing to think that she could do that so effectively. Go report in to a doc and get yourself a full diagnostic for any program anomalies and the like. I'll be running forensics detail around here for a couple hours, and by the time your check up is complete, I want a full written report of your entire time on post tonight. Down to the smallest detail. All of your personal surveillance logs, too."

"You got it, boss." Guernica sighed.

"She said her name was Nike, number seven?" Zero started to walk off towards a small group of investigators.

"Yeap."

"There's an MSWAT captain we met who might be interested in this."

Zero had been instrumental in crushing Apollo's Rebellion, and he had left it as over and done in his mind. The fighting had been fast and furious, and many Hunters and Mavericks had died, but it had ended in a resounding victory for the Hunters, and by proxy, AmeriCanada won out big in the political side of the whole debacle. Nice and neat. The US itself acknowledged the two missing commander class Mavericks and was dedicating an undeclared amount of resources to hunting them down and exterminating them. It should have been left at that. With Nike showing up in Japan, it became an international affair once more. Zero didn't like having to watch his back quite this much, but her message had been clear. If she had any grudges to pick with specific Hunters, she could have easily made good on them. He wouldn't be such an easy target, but X was particularly vulnerable by comparison. The Azure Hunter had good instincts, but he wasn't the same combatant as Zero was. Their respective fathers had built them with different purposes.

"Hey X, I'm sending you another report, this one's a bit more important." Zero spoke into a communicator. "I know we're due off shift here soon, but go over it. And don't go out on a Chaser alone tonight. You'll understand when you read it."

"Is it that bad?"

"Just read it."

* * *

Erebus looked distracted for a moment, actually fumbled one of the magpistols he was collecting from the qualifying shooters. The unit doctor, Hypatia picked up on this right away. She had a good eye, that one. Another good pick he never regretted from years back. A bit like Hilde in a way, never really intended for the work they did these days, but throwing themselves into it without question, excelling at it. Easily one of the best technicians he could have found out of any civilian organization. He'd have to dig into the military to find better, but alas, he hadn't been given that much sway yet to start dipping into that talent pool.

"Captain?"

"Zero out of MHHQ just sent me some ghost story. Huh."

"Zero contacted you?" Hypatia blushed slightly.

"Jealous? I could hook you two up. Want me to call him back for you?"

"Captain! Don't you dare! Not funny, not funny!" the smaller reploid shouted, almost hysterical. Everyone had a good laugh as The Captain made an exaggerated gesture of picking up a phone and dialing up the Crimson Hunter.

His mind was a whirlwind of thoughts.

_So soon, Seven? You were the best at that sort of work. You made an awful lot possible for the 2nd RSF on that day, and back when we served together you easily outclassed anyone else at e-warfare. The number never suited you, you may as well have been Apollo's second in command with those skills. You infiltrated MHHQ easily enough, but no kills. Testing yourself? You were never that petty. You were testing them. You want to see what they will do. Are you doing this for Apollo? That isn't the impression of the data he sent me. Just another angry survivor? Can't be that alone._

_What are you up to, Nike?_

"I suppose we'll find out soon enough." He said aloud, confusing the doctor. "Ricardo? You can handle the rest, can't you? Some business has come up and it's pretty urgent." The human rolled up with hovering weapons rack, collecting the magpistols from his Captain.

"Somethin' wrong, Captain?"

"Business is picking up. I'll be in New Tokyo for a little bit. Hilde and Kindle are in charge while I'm away."

* * *

"Thanks for coming as quickly as you did. Word hasn't gotten around here just yet, but sooner or later the knowledge of the security breach is going to be common knowledge at MHHQ. Between the falling rate of incidents to deal with and this, it'll be another hit to morale" X sat with his fingers crossed, looking down at a data pad that had most likely out of date information on Nike. Leaning against a wall next to him was Zero. Across from them sat Erebus, sipping on a fresh cup of coffee.

"It isn't the same as essentially saving my city, but consider this the start of some form of payment for your efforts last month."

"After we couldn't confirm Nike's corpse, you explained to us that if we ever needed data on her capabilities, or any information in general on other rogue members of the 2nd RSF, we should go directly to you before contacting your government." Zero went straight to the point. "We have one reploid who is the only person we can confirm saw her arrive here, any others, it's as if she never was here to begin with. We don't know how she did it."

"No weight sensors on any elevators were tripped, no infrared cam data, no visual data. Nothing, right? Well, she hasn't lost her touch. I imagine she concentrated on the floor pressure detection protocols first, operating on thermoptics for the most part. Thing is, you get close enough to a reploid, they'll hear the system engaged, even if they might not be able to see the distortion that humans apparently can. Reploids have a harder time with spotting the cloak field the US Military puts on it's SOCOM units. Deliberate design choice, something to do with the resolution limitations of our eyes." Erebus grunted. "That can explain any people who should have made helpful witnesses being completely unable to recall anything. As far as they are concerned, they never saw or heard anything, and worse yet, there's no tampering with their actual memory, so you can't use that to work with."

"What we're really concerned with is the people she hacked." X brought up seven personnel files on a wallscreen behind him. "If she can easily rewrite visual memory data, or even shut off physical functionality, could she conceivably control a reploid to do her bidding?"

"She might be able to do that with a mechaniloid. Reploids are a different story. You want me to give you my honest assessment?"

"Shoot."

"If she wanted to level the MHHQ, she'd have done it by now. She's obviously shown the capacity to fool your security and your people. Don't take it as an insult, Nike could very well be inside the Pentagon right now and they'd never suspect a thing. To her, this was purely a reconnaissance mission."

"We've checked out own databases. Nothing has changed. We've had no external unauthorized access as far as we can tell." X smiled weakly. "Of course, now that we know what we do know about her, that's a small comfort at best."

"Well, this might make things a bit easier for you." Erebus opened a compartment in his chest armor and produced a small black cube. "You are now _not_ in possession her original design schematics, updated with any maintenance data or additional physical enhancements she might have acquired as of six months ago. It's out of date, but it definitely is better than nothing, assuming you even had this." Setting it on the table, Erebus stood to leave.

"So, now that we don't have this data, where would you get such a thing?" X had a bemused smirk on his face. "I mean, I'm sure you know better than to deliver classified military secrets to an organization that belongs to the GDC, especially considering your own government's current standing with them."

"There's nothing on there that the GDC doesn't already have. Not that they'd tell you anything quite that detailed about her." Erebus was halfway to the door when he suddenly stopped. "Say, where is that commander of yours, that Signas guy?"

"There's a security conference in Berlin that he's attending. He's in the loop, if that's what you're asking." Zero said. "What's up?"

"I've got a project I'm working on, small thing really. Was gonna ask about some logistics issues. Nothing major." Tipping at hat that wasn't actually there at the two heroes, The Captain opened the door to leave. "If anything comes up regarding her or any of the missing survivors, gimme another ring, alright?"

"Sure thing. Good to see you again, Captain." X stood and snapped off a respectful salute.

"Aw, come on now, you outrank me, remember?" Erebus sauntered out the door.

There was a long silence before Zero finally spoke up.

"Do you really think that Nike didn't intend anything serious?"

"You don't trust his assessment?"

"Honestly, no. Nothing against the guy, but I can't exactly be so relaxed about a lapse in security like this."

"She has no real motive. She told Guernica that he was just doing his job, and spared him. We did the same on that day. If it makes you feel better, I got Signas to approve a doubled up flight patrol plan. In a couple days, we'll have two satellites in a geosynch orbit over Japan, so that'll help with our coverage overall. At this point though, we can't do much else. We'll schedule a security upgrade within the week for all MHHQ staff though, to be on the safe side. We can't disagree than if she wanted a bloodbath, she would have had a pretty large one before she was stopped." X stood from his seat, shutting down his data terminal. "That's it, I'm done for the day. I'm taking a Land Chaser out. You still want to be my bodyguard?"

"I get the feeling you're making fun of me." Zero's face took on a dangerously playful expression. "We should spar for a bit. C'mon." He threw a light punch to X's shoulder, who parried it aside with a laugh.

"Hell no. I'm off the clock, no more hard work."

"Fine, lets go ride bikes like kids then." Zero sighed in mock disappointment. "I can still beat you at Land Chaser racing, so I'll take what I can get."

"That so?"

X managed to be the first through the office door, dash thrusters blazing. Zero was just behind him, howling something about cheating. Hunter and maintenance worker alike only shook their heads knowingly.

* * *

Erebus had returned to his office without a word to anyone. Nobody had even noticed his return, and he wanted it that way. As far as Kindle and Hilde knew, if there was an emergency call, they would lead the current MSWAT out into the situation and deal with it as commanders in his stead. He could only keep up his joking demeanor for so long, but knowing what he did know now, Erebus doubted that alcohol could sooth his mind as scenario after scenario surrounding the woman who now called herself Nike. A mail icon blinked in the lower right of his vision. It was a file sent by X, Maverick incident data. Some of it had been highlighted. There had been a clear drop off in violent Maverick crime after the events of September 10th.

What was the correlation? Was there any?

Like most of the world, Erebus had become almost numbed to the concept of Mavericks and Sigma. With the knowledge that becoming a Maverick could be viral in nature, and was for most cases in the past, it had become a fact of life. The seeming absence of Sigma and his schemes behind the Rebellion was unexpected.

The 2nd RSF hadn't been infected. They were the largest, and most powerful group of reploids to make the choice to commit Maverick actions in recent history.

Now one of their former commanders was running around the world, had shown up at the final resting place of the father of modern reploids. That also didn't account for the other missing commander class unit, and it didn't account for small number of soldiers who had chosen to flee rather than submit to US authority. The problem that had brought down the Rebellion initially was that they had picked a stand up fight as opposed to one that suited their original purpose. If Nike was planning something, probing for that something, it was the worst-case scenario already. Vanguard, in any state of readiness, would be hard pressed to stop her. Any organization would be.

"Looks like I'll have to step things up on my end." He logged into his data terminal, and went to work.

A day began for some and ended for others.

The world was in great shape.

Business as usual.


	3. Phase 1: Contacts

**Phase 1: Contacts**

**Kaminov Industries Energen Processing Facility Three  
Ural Mountains****, Russian Federation  
December 1st, 2133 3:00 AM**

The importance of energen was hardly ignored by the world, and certainly not by the contingent of state military forces whose presence at this civilian mining complex revolved entirely around watching over and guaranteeing its safe and continued operation. The battalion assigned here was more accustomed to watching over potentially more dangerous uranium storage facilities, with much stricter regulations and much harsher consequences should security be compromised. They didn't show it outwardly, but being at a civilian facility did tend to make one relax ever so slightly.

The operation was almost entirely automated, but still required men and reploids to guarantee it's safe function and maintenance. There were two hundred humans and sixty reploids on staff here. Few, compared to the thousand soldiers that stood guard or were stationed in a small base within two minutes of flight time to the mines.

Part of the FSB Rapid Reaction Force that was assigned to the Urals Federal District, the soldiers were members of the 8th OSN 'Rus'. A storied, famous unit dating back to a time where Russia was still reeling from the Soviet Union era, a history of fighting men that survived the wars of the 2040's and the wars that surrounded the dissolving UN in 2090. The joke that often went whispered was that they were the rock stars of the Special Forces world, but it was only whispered. These were hardened men, and had to be. The world was never as safe as the average person believed, and as a strictly human unit, they had every reason to be considerably more intense in preparation. The bottom line was that they were not as strong or as fast as military reploids, but Russia possessed fewer of those than the United States or China did. Part of it was distrust, but after September 10th, the Russian military saw no need to open its more specialized branches up to reploids, lest another Apollo decide he knew what was best for his country at the cost of billions of credits in hardware and personnel.

One thousand men rotated watch over the sprawling complex in eight hour shifts that took them around it length, breadth, and depths. When they had time, they trained in a camp deeper in the Urals two hours away. If there wasn't training, there was rest. The obsessive zeal to reach the peak of human performance at any number of military skills was the reason why, so long ago, the United States military looked at the Spetsnaz as their true opponent if it ever came down to it, and still did.

A brief look at the facility would reveal how extensive the security was. Overwatch of the whole facility was maintained by camouflaged sniping positions that were difficult to see in the harsh conditions that often visited the surface, and were not nearly as vulnerable as a traditional guard tower, though ten of those dotted the place to provide overlapping fields of fire if needed. On foot, or by Land Chaser, teams of men checked places that the towers or the snipers could not see themselves, and if necessary, the 8th OSN possessed thirty Nevsky class Heavy Ride Armors designed specially for the cold and the rough terrain. The facility provided almost twenty percent of the processed energen Russia needed to power itself, and Russia itself held what was estimated to be thirty percent of the world's reserves of the stuff. Facility Three was important, but for all it provided, and how tempting a target it would be to terrorists or Mavericks alike, it stood unmolested for decades.

Extending from the facility were a series of tube rails that were traversed by maglev trains back and for the between mines that were worked almost constantly, providing raw energen and a variety of other materials to this facility and others like it. The magic of the facility lay in its complex receiving, distribution, and refinement processes, all automated. It had to be. Automation was faster. It was bad enough that reploid and human workers risked everything to mine the stuff. Despite the fairly handsome pay they received, it didn't change the risk involved to be at work for long hours in such dangerous conditions. If the materials they mined could not be processed quickly, it would simply be wasting away when Russia and its customers needed it so badly, a waste of the sacrifices made by the miners. Kaminov Industries had ten such facilities operating at all hours around the nation, but this was the largest and most efficient of them. Outside of pay and benefits, the facility was another way Kaminov Industries could honor the efforts of its miners, making sure their effort translated to real benefits to the people they served as quickly as possible.

The Spetsnaz were surprisingly affable with the civilian staff at Facility Three. A few even had wives working in the facility, and the reploids that worked here were often invited to training exercises that didn't compromise internal security, and their innate toughness and speed at picking up on things these men had drilled in for years made them excellent measuring sticks.

It was late, and like always, the Russian winter was relentless. Despite the soft glow of lights that marked its location, if one did not see any of the patrolling guards, Facility Three appeared all but deserted. It was the hour where human reflexes and senses faced their greatest test of endurance.

* * *

Two reploids approached the facility from the south, soundlessly, nearly invisible as a storm began to obscure human vision down to roughly twenty feet and growing worse by the minute. With an EM field deployed in a fifty-mile radius around the facility, they could not have warped in, not that they would have elected to. The warp lights and heat signatures would have easily given them away. They had trekked nearly a week to arrive here, with no time to rest and recharge, in concert with three others. Through the use of disposable energy sub tanks they had been able to stay up and running, but as of now, they had no further supplies of energy to fall back upon save for their own. No matter if they succeeded or failed, it was likely they would not have enough energy to walk back to civilization if their means of escape failed them. The thought did not faze either reploid one bit. This was what they were built and trained for, and they would not fail. There was a second team hidden on the base, counting on them to do the job they had been assigned here and now.

The use of optical camouflage fields was not an option, the air conditions would have been impossible for those systems to mimic, but the pair, clad in white and gray, had no need for them as long as the storm ruled the skies. They only needed to fear thermal detection, as there was no amount of deceptive equipment that could hide the entirety of their internal operations reactors from an observer, but at this range, to the snipers with their thermal scopes, they might have appeared as a patrolling Spetsnaz pair, had they been seen at all.

They ran through the snow in controlled bursts, from cover to cover. They were guided by a third who watched from behind and above one of the sniper nests, half buried in the snow, completely unbeknownst to the three men whose eyes and scopes diligently watched the facility in the valley below. This reploid had deployed a series of small, spider like camera drones that made their way to each of the fifteen sniper posts they had confirmed before the start of the operation. Combined with the drones the infiltrators had deployed to the ten guard towers, he had enabled a network that displayed the sightlines of any individual with a thermal scope at the nests or the towers to not only himself, but to the visual sensors of the two reploid teams in the refinery.

At an unspoken signal, the pair split off from eachother. One made way directly for the liquefied energen storage tanks in the eastern half of the complex, the other made his way towards one of the six cargo elevators that lead to the underground processing and storage center for crystal form energen.

Arriving at the liquid tanks, the reploid continued his sprint, placing small, adhesive devices to each tank, not missing a step as he leapt away from their raised storage platform, heading back towards his comrade. A minute later, a patrol passed by the storage tanks, unable to see the disturbed snow that marked the passing of the reploid as the winds picked up yet again. It was almost a complete whiteout.

Unrefined liquefied energen is an extremely unstable substance. The processes required to make the solid crystal into a broth that could be further processed down into fuels for various applications were complex and dangerous, but the yield was worth more than the solid crystals alone would have garnered. It was the new 'black gold' of the 22nd century. Because of its volatility, storage on the surface was a safety precaution more than anything. There had been harsh lessons learned around the world in regards to that.

In front of the cargo elevator the second reploid had chosen, they encountered their first problem. There were four Spetsnaz at the door to the small shelter that shielded the elevator. A shift change was going into effect. The four men were engaging in some idle chatter, which was biting into the time the saboteurs had.

_Overwatch, Gray One. Have eyes on four hostiles at entry point Alpha. SitRep on alternates?_

_Gray One, hold. Eyes on large numbers of OpFor moving through facility from northern entrance, they're cycling shifts at each entry point. Recommend you do not engage until security has been interrupted. Oxide One and Two are moving into position now._

_Understood, Overwatch._

Gray One checked a wrist display. They had fifteen minutes before the ball got moving. Next to him, Gray Two pointed emphatically towards the back of the shed. One followed his partner, and found a window cracked open just slightly. The sound of machinery within shed indicated a kind of portable generator was up and running, likely handling a heater of some kind. Quickly but calmly, One pulled the window up, and if it had made any noise, it had been drowned out by the background. The pair crept in as quickly as they could manage. At the corners of their eyes, a green light indicated that their camouflage systems were able to manage the indoor environment, and they immediately vanished from sight.

_Overwatch, we are pressed for time and exfil will be bingo fuel at the rally point as is. We're in, out of your LOS through an open window, thermoptics working inside. We will be out of contact for three mikes._

_I confirm. We're moving to plan B. Oxide One, cut the power then activate the back ups immediately. It will take five minutes before security is rebooted completely. Rendezvous at Linear Rail Two once objective is complete. Remember, we do not know what order the security systems will come back online in._

_Roger._

For three seconds, the facility was dark.

The men outside of the shed didn't sound surprised that the power failed. They expressed more surprise that the backup generators had come online as quickly as they did.

In that brief darkness, Gray Two had found a maintenance ladder next to the cargo elevator itself through an opened access hatch, diving into it head first. A moment later, One followed, pulling the hatch shut behind him. On his back, two small pitons shot out from a small pack, digging into the shaft walls, trailing nanocarbon fiber wiring, slowing his descent rapidly. A couple feet below him, Two had done the same, an unlit beam saber in one hand, descending the shaft at a human heat source a hundred feet below them.

_I see him Two. Wait to confirm other targets, remain in stealth._

"Biometrics are down, Viktor. I can't call the elevator." Junior Sergeant Maxim Cherenkov had tried twice, once before the shortage, and once after. Once the servers finished their integrity checks, retinal scanners, palm scanners, and personal biometrics monitoring would be back in full effect, and he could begin the long walk back to the Spetsnaz barracks with Private Viktor Harkov. It was the nature of the security AI at the facility to run an integrity check after every outage, regardless of the cause. It was a minor inconvenience at worst. "We're stuck here for the moment. Not that I am jealous of our comrades riding out the storm." Maxim leaned against the guard railing that prevented him from falling into the platform where the elevator would eventually arrive, shivering slightly. The cold was filtering its way down the shaft, and it had been like walking into an open freezer after sitting in the sun for hours. The underground facility tried to keep temperatures comfortable, but it wasn't helping much here.

"What do you think caused it?" Viktor joined the Junior Sergeant at the railing, picking at the chipping paint.

"The outage? What do you think jackass? It was the storm."

"Didn't they say the backups were supposed to come up immediately?"

"I'd say they came online a lot faster than we should have expected from these civilian installations." Maxim reached for a cigarette in one of the breast pockets on his flak vest, then thought better of it. Even if technically he'd been relieved from the storage area, until he got back to the barracks, smoking was frowned upon until you were out of your gear and officially no longer on patrol. "I don't like this wait. You would think they would have made these systems somewhat more autonomous."

There was a muffled gurgle in reply, accompanied by a hiss and a low hum.

The smell of something burning.

The smell of blood.

Maxim looked to his right and saw…something had restrained Viktor's mouth, his shocked body twitching in the captivity of a shimmering, ghost like figure. Through his chest, precisely where his heart would be, an orange beam saber punched cleanly through armor, fabric, and flesh. The body seized up once more before falling slack.

Something heavy wrapped itself around Maxim's neck just then, covering his mouth. He struggled against something unshakable, unmovable. He could not breath. He tried to scream in alarm, but felt a horrible, burning sensation in his chest. He could see the orange glow fading back through him.

He felt so heavy.

A breath escaped his mouth, between vise-like invisible fingers, a thin pink mist, diffusing into the cold air.

The specter that had descended from above him came into view. Reploid eyes looked into his own, studying his face. He tried to speak, to shout, to curse, but his mouth could no longer move.

Everything started to grow darker. The pain was gone now. His eyes watered, and he could barely make out the cool metal floor as it rose up to gently meet his face. His mouth tasted of copper, and liquid warmth leaked from it onto the ground beneath him.

_Mavericks-_

* * *

_Tangos down._ Gray One announced coldly into his internal comms. _Two, split off to the northern sector of the storage area. Set your charges, engage any personnel who may compromise them. Two minutes. Go. _There was a whine as their pitons disengaged from the walls they'd buried themselves in, the cables rapidly being wound back into their packs for later use.

Gray One piled the two bodies into the depression where the elevator would arrive, if it ever did. Not that they were going to need it. With that task complete, he sprinted off towards the opposite sector from Two, planting demolition charges on support pillars, lobbing thermic mines into open pallets of energen, all the while dodging patrols of oxygen masked Spetznaz who could not hear the sound suppressed footfalls of the reploids. Crystallized energen dust could cause complications with human lungs and eyes. Those masks would save them from side effects like cancer or blindness, but also reduced their situational awareness.

The underground storage base only consisted of a small part of the facility, but the placement of the explosives would guarantee that the surface of the base would collapse in on the warehouse, followed by the crystallized energen reacting to the thermic mines. That, alongside of the detonations of the liquid energen tanks would result in a conflagration that would level most of the surface of the base that survived the initial blasts.

Billions of credits worth of a precious commodity would be lost. Certainly, the Russians would be affected by it, as would their business partners. Energy rationing was a likely result. It was an effective way to wage a war. That was what the Commander was calling it. A war that had started on June 4th, 2118.

Commander Apollo had never stated that reploid independence was the ultimate goal of the rebellion during September 10th, but the surviving command staff easily made the connection, and their fellow survivors, numbering less than a hundred strong, had universally accepted this truth. The two men they'd killed were only doing their duty, but they were not the ultimate goal, merely in the way of that goal. It was accepted that the Plan would involve ending many human and reploid lives, and throughout Asia, the Few were scattered, and making preparations for similar operations.

A sense of pity enveloped Gray One just then. Pity for the soldiers and the civilians who would suffer for this. It had to be done. With change came suffering, humans and reploids knew this well.

It was all for the future, they were told, and Gray One believed it sincerely. A future where the world could exist without a central military authority. Humans and reploids were all too much alike. They needed a cause to rally behind as one combined unit, or they could never truly unite. The Plan would give them one. It would break them, and it would rejoin them. They would be better for it. This is what Lieutenant Commander Nike believed, and it is what her fellow survivors believed. Months of running, of cowering in makeshift hideouts, of planning and preparations were over. He and the rest of the Few were in motion now, and could not, would not stop. Not until the world changed, or they were all dead.

_Gray One, mission complete, headed back to the elevator shaft._

_Copy that, Two._

He sprinted out of the warehouse now, seeing Two just ahead of him, pointing up at the descending elevator. That wasn't according to plan.

_Stealth up, stick to the walls, go now._

Not breaking his stride, Gray One leapt up to one of the shaft walls, digging one hand into it to stop from falling. Across from him was Two, and they pressed against the walls as the elevator descended, with just enough clearance to pass them by unscathed. Four men were on the elevator.

They had weapons readied, magpistols and vibroblades. Either one was definitely a problem if they hit in the right spots. Gray One noted the thermal scopes on each man. The Spetsnaz were definitely onto something. In the brief moment before he decided to engage, he assumed that the personal biometrics systems had come back online first. These four had been the group they had bypassed before, the closest able to investigate the abrupt halt of the biological functions of their first victims. He wondered what else had gone wrong.

_Take 'em!_

The two reploids lunged onto the cargo elevator just as one of the Spetsnaz noted the slight thermal distortion left behind by the cloaks and raised his magpistol in the direction of Gray One's face, crying out an alarm. For his perceptiveness, he earned a metal fist to the nose. There was a loud, wet crunching noise as the body flew across the elevator at great speed head first into one of the protective rails. Dead on impact. The other three soldiers pointed at the now visible Gray One, shouting rapidly in Russian. One fired just as two of them were roughly slammed face first into the floor by Gray Two, followed by the wet snap of their necks. Hit in his upper chest, Gray One was given only a moments pause before his beam saber lashed out and cut the man down, who died quickly enough that he did not utter another sound, face frozen in an expression between terror and pain.

"Shit!" Gray Two snapped. "You okay?"

"I'm fine, no vitals." He lied, his voice growing somewhat hoarse. "Overwatch, we've been compromised!" The wounded reploid staggered to a control panel and reversed the direction of the elevator.

_What the hell went on down there? The whole base lit up like June 4th, hundreds of troops are all over the place! You have thirty plus infantry headed to your current position, Oxide One and Two are already at the Linear Rail. Be advised, I've also picked up two radar configurations in the air, Tarantulas, loaded for bear and two minutes out!_

_Copy, move to the Rail, we will meet you there. _One jabbed a thumb to shed they were closing in on above them. "Lob a charge up there and pop it off now, we will advance to Linear Rail Two during the confusion. Cover to cover. Like the sims. Do it!"

"DOWN!" Two shouted, throwing the charge upward with all of his might, going prone alongside One, aiming at the device with a hand morphed into a buster.

The ensuing blast shredded the small structure at the surface, killing a score of Spetsnaz troopers who had been a little more eager than the others to corner the oncoming Mavericks. The blast had scarcely begun to clear when the two reploids flew out of the elevator shaft in a single leap, landing and speeding off without delay, dash thrusters blaring, snow and ice kicked up and melting in their wake.

Four hundred meters to Linear Rail Two. The sound of explosions to their right only served to urge them to move faster.

_Gray Team, Oxide One! Ride Armor spotted, your three o'clock!_

_We see it!_

The Nevsky Ride Armor was traveling at a good fifty miles an hour over the snow, kicking up a fair bit of the stuff and showing up bright red on the thermal scans from both reploids. It was a squat humanoid shape, the legs thick and suited for work in mountainous regions. The arms consisted of massive claws than rings around a pair of autocannons, giving the unit a distinct melee and ranged punch. A shoulder mounted anti-tank canon leveled at the fleeing reploids, swiveling on its mount, trying to target them.

_Grays, maintain your current heading, Oxide Two has a shot._

A high pitched whine ripped overhead, as a magrifle carried by Oxide Two opened up on the Ride Armor. It was enough to topple the unit, cratering its chest armor, but it wasn't a hard kill. It did buy them some time while it tried to right itself.

The Russians started firing back, magpistol and rifle rounds passing dangerously close to the Grays. They split for cover, Gray One much closer to the oncoming Spetsnaz. Leaning out, Gray Two lay down a swath of suppressive plasma fire from his buster, keeping some heads down, as Gray One fell back, immediately attracting heavy fire as he scrambled behind a reinforced concrete barrier. He leaned out to get a look, only to duck back when a sniper in one of the guard towers nearly took his head off. Grimly, he noted that the winds had started to come down a little bit, and visibility was improving. They were going to be pinned down, and time was running very short.

A massive chunk of the barrier disintegrated inches from his head. He popped his head up enough for his HUD to mark the location of the sniper, tracing the trajectory of the last round fired based on the distortions in the air, firing a bolt of plasma. The sniper fired again, his aim wide as he threw himself to one side to avoid getting killed in the exchange. The volume of fire from the Russians aimed at his direction seemed to double, and the cover was melting away even faster.

_Overwatch, detonate the spider drones, now now now!_

Blasts rippled across the base, taking out the upper decks of each guard tower and neutralizing the sniper nests they'd been sent out to. Two less factors to worry about.

_Gray Team, you need to pick it up, those polycraft are a minute out, and we no longer have a surveillance net without those drones. Running out of magic tricks here..._

_Start the rail up, we will be there within thirty seconds!_

"Last charge!" One shouted out loud enough that Two could hear him over the chaos, flinging his spare demolition pack at the enemy, before detonating it. "Go now!" Without sparing a look at the carnage he may or may not have caused, Gray One sprinted out from cover, nodding at Two, who replied by firing a charged bolt of plasma at the downed Ride Armor, ripping off one of its arms before joining his comrade in the retreat.

"Just like the sims?"

"Keep moving!"

As the closed in on the rail, they saw their three comrades in one of the cars, sniping away at targets as best they could, scrambling to other places as return fire was directed at them. The cars on the rail were starting to move. No time for finesse. Gray One leapt first, followed closely by Two, and they crashed through the roof of the rear control cab.

"ETA for Black Zero Zero One at the exfil, eight minutes. Get us moving!"

With a lurch, the magnetic rail transport did just that. It quickly built up speed to ninety miles and hour, and only continued to climb. Behind them, the facility began to shrink in size. It was suddenly very quiet compared to before, their breathing filling the empty space, the sound of Oxide Two's mag rifle being reloaded, the gentle whirring of the electromagnets beneath them that propelled them towards relative safety.

"Detonating charges. Brace for it." Gray One spoke after a moment's rest, tapping out a command on a wrist mounted keypad.

The earth shook, which in turn made the train do the same. A pillar of bright red flame, fueled by crystallized energen, rose from the center of the facility. A moment later, the liquid tanks on the surface went off. So powerful was the blast that the shockwave was visible, clearing the air in the immediate vicinity of snow for miles around. Almost everything standing at ground zero simply ceased to be, mere pieces of metal or men scattered to the four winds, debris raining down on the rest of the facility, a superheated shower of death. Steam seemed to rise from the center of the facility as the upper decks of the construction buckling into the sudden gaping hole that was once the storage and processing center, dragging several relatively untouched buildings, including the civilian barracks, into the burning chasm. It was as though someone had literally carved out the center of the complex and replaced it with total chaos. The train rattled, threatening to leap off the tracks, but stayed the course, headed towards one of the mines that fed its findings to the facility.

"Alright people, we're half done, get this rigged to maintain full velocity into the receiving station up ahead, and get the rest of our charges set to detonate upon arrival there. Where are those polycraft, Overwatch?"

"Still in the air. One is circling the base, far as I can tell. One is closing in on the rail line. They're still onto us."

Punctuating that statement, the rail tube shook as an autocannon from the pursuing Tarantula strafed across it, shattering glass and nearly ripping the car they were using in half. The five reploids moved to the next car, leaving behind their explosives as another storm of autocannon fire chased after them. They all took ragged breaths, approaching their system limits as they scrambled away from the incoming fire. Reploids didn't need air to live, but with the amount of heat they were generating, they were taxing their internal cooling systems as it stood, and taking in the colder mountain air would help.

"Don't we want the charges at the front car?" Oxide One shouted, rapidly tapping out a series of commands on his wristpad that would lock the maglev into its top speed as it raced towards the mine at the other end of the tracks.

"It'll have to do, we are bugging out!"

The tube opened up a moment later. The reploids all leapt out of the second car, tucking their legs against them as they plummeted to the snow far below. Above them, the train continued to accelerate towards its final destination.

_Once we hit the ground just keep moving!_

The impact was much worse than Gray One expected, and a warning display lit up, informing him that he was losing control of his left arm. He was still combat effective, but the magpistol round had apparently been a lot worse for his general health than he expected. He rolled a half dozen times before righting himself, sparing a look behind him he saw that the linear rail had managed to continue on, just barely ahead of a barrage of rockets that took out the tracks behind the transport. The Tarantula hovered over the damage it had done, then ominously turned to face the Mavericks. Even in the heavy winds and snow, the black, bulbous shape was enough to inspire a measure of respect and fear. It was a flying tank meant to kill Ride Armors heavier and nastier than the Nevsky, and survive the inevitable counter barrage to come home and rearm to do it again and again if necessary, the 22nd century successor to the A-10 Warthog attack plane and the Mi-24 Hind helicopter.

_Stay on internal comms, how're we doing?_

Everyone checked in, and were all moving down the mountain towards the LZ, dash thrusters alight.

The Tarantula did not lag for very long in pursuit, racing ahead of them despite the exceedingly unsafe conditions, drawing lines of cannon fire in the paths of the Mavericks and generally making their lives very exciting and difficult, but unable to maintain a solid fix on any of the targets. Intermittently, a pair of anti-tank dumbfire rockets shot out from weapon racks and blew massive chunks out of the snow, temporarily blinding the reploids closest to the blasts. They couldn't stay this lucky for much longer.

_Oxide Two, can you take him? _Overwatch asked, not hiding his growing terror.

_I can try._ The reploid sniper flipped onto his back, brandishing his rifle as he skipped along the snow, sighting in on the Tarantula. After a few moments dealing with the unsteady aim, three shots rang out. From his perspective, the cockpit was suddenly smeared in dark red, and the polycraft haphazardly fell from the sky into the mountain just behind them. "Take that, you bastard." He muttered under his breath, flipping back up right and re-igniting his dash boosters.

The Tarantula continued to tumble after them, and the ground seemed to shake in sympathy to its cause.

_Don't stop, don't look back, just go just go!_ Gray One urged.

A wave of snow seemed to rise up behind them, engulfing the fallen polycraft, and nipping at the heels of the Mavericks.

_Black Zero Zero One to Gray One Actual. We're getting close to our operational range before we have to abandon you._

_Come to us, Black, we will exfil from our present location as it updates, copy?_

_Uh, understood Strike Team, we are en route._

Gray One could not fight the grin that was appearing on his face, feeling it creep up as the biting cold winds battered away at his form, sliding at nearly a hundred miles an hour down the side of a mountain. Despite everything going wrong, despite the fact that he had just committed one of the more expensive and brutal terrorist attacks in recent history, there was a sense of elation coursing through him. The fulfillment of purpose, and the fact that he and his fellows were still alive against long odds was thrilling. Were he human, he'd have called it an adrenaline rush.

It was almost enough to make him forget about the avalanche. Almost.

_Black Zero Zero One, this is going to cut it close, open up the rear access hatch and get ready to move as soon as we are all on board!_ Gray One warned.

The air seemed to clear dramatically as they raced below a certain altitude. The avalanche still followed doggedly, but they were below the worst of the storm now. They could make out the oncoming exfiltration polycraft in the distance, running as dark as it could, with no external lighting for prying eyes to pick up on.

_Tell me you're not bringing that natural disaster on board with you_, the pilot sounded incredulous over the internal comms.

_Boss man, got a big drop off coming right up, its gotta be there or it never will be!_ Gray Two marked the threat for all to see on their HUD, and the pilot of Black Zero Zero One immediately picked up on that without a word, diving down wildly to match the altitude they would attempting to board from, spinning to give them a clear shot at the rear hatch of the ship.

Gray One was lagging the furthest behind. He watched as Overwatch was the first aboard while a diagnostic warning informed him that his overall power output was dropping across the board. The mag-round had done more to his systems that he'd been letting on. The self-repair protocols were sucking up too much of his reactor output, but had he overridden those, he might have been dead minutes ago.

Gray Two leapt aboard, followed closely by Oxide One.

He was still a hundred meters away when Oxide Two made it aboard. The avalanche was overloading his audio sensors with the roar of inevitability.

Fifty meters. A yellow window blinked insistently. **OUTPUT WARN. LEFT LEG.  
**

The drop off made a sort of mini ramp. If he had the time to spare, we would have waited so he could have made use that to let physics help him aboard, but he had two time limits imposed upon him now. He jumped with twenty meters to go.

It was a good jump, but he was just short, his hands clawing through the open air and grabbing on to the tip of the loading ramp. He dug into the reinforced armor plate as best he could. The polycraft lurched as the pilot gained speed and altitude to avoid the wave of snow. He was shaken free.

"GOTCHA!" Gray Two had reached out to grab him at the last second, supported by Overwatch and Oxide One. "We're secure, get us out of here!"

Gray One smiled tiredly as he was pulled completely inside. He turned back to face the mountain they were retreating from, the glow of the burning facility cutting through the thick clouds and the wind. A second pillar of light joined it seconds later, the maglev having finally reached its destination deep within the mine it usually delivered supplies to. This time, it delivered a load of thermic mines, the ensuing blasts effectively sealing away the energen rich veins located there for weeks, if not months. As secondary blasts issued from the processing facility, entryway hatch sealed itself shut, blocking out the spectacle.

Mission accomplished.

Nobody spoke in the dark silence that followed as the pilot brought the polycraft as low to the earth as he dared to fly. It was only hours later, when the pilot announced they were no longer in Russian airspace that the reploid designated Overwatch asked:

"Do you think this will be worth it?"

In the distance, the low rumble of further explosions answered him. From tonight onward, they would need to ensure that it would be.

**LA Hunter HQ, MWSWAT Division Command Office  
Los Angeles, California  
1:45 PM PST**

"We have just received some rather disturbing breaking news out of Russia minutes ago. Top officials from the Kremlin have just finished a press briefing in regards to sudden explosions that have completely demolished a Kaminov Industries energen refinement facility. They are calling it a total loss, as initial satellite passes have shown that nearly seventy percent of the facility is beyond any form of salvage. In addition to the civilian workers stationed there, a battalion strength detachment of the famed 8th OSN Spetsnaz were stationed at the Kaminov facility as part of an ongoing Russian effort to secure their energen reserves from threats human or Maverick. Russian Secretary of the Security Council Igor Romanov stressed that it was still too early to determine the number of casualties, but was quick to temper his message with caution, calling to mind the sheer destructive strength of the detonation registering on Richter scales across the greater part western Russia."

"In addition to the loss of the energen refinery, a mine connected to it by magnetic rail also suffered a massive explosion, with no word as of yet if any miners were lost in the disaster. The mine itself has collapsed near the surface, and it is unknown if the damage is extensive enough to make reopening an eventuality. The cause of these blasts has not been identified, and Secretary Romanov avoided all lines of inquiry in regards to cause, awaiting further developments as an investigative team makes its way to the disaster area. It is not yet knows how this will affect Russia, or the nations in provides with energen. We will be continuing our coverage of this-"

Erebus shut off the wallscreen with a dismissive wave, fingers tapping against each other as his mind sank into deep thought. The Russians were going to be less than sociable after this mess, that much was certain. That there had been a military presence on the civilian facility said a lot about how much they valued the place. Tensions on the Chinese/Russian border were going to get worse, and that was going to have that whole part of the world riding that much closer to the edge of their seats.

With the discovery of greater reserves of energen located closer to either side of the border, it meant that troops had reflexively been deployed at those locations for a precaution. Eventually, these small security units became full sized units, with new bases opening to accommodate them. In the name of security, Russia and China were playing a very dangerous game, but so far nobody had been killed over it. Erebus was keenly interested to see what the authorities would determine the cause to be, and how they would break that news to the public, and he definitely wanted to see what the AmeriCanadian intelligence networks had on the incident. This could be the factor that got Vanguard in motion.

The former Special Forces reploid had been working almost obsessively to get his proposal to the President off the ground. His autonomous anti-maverick/terror unit was all but assembled, currently still under the assumption they were merely an MSWAT unit until they were told otherwise. Not long after Nike had made her reappearance in New Tokyo, Erebus decided to let his people know what he was planning, and was pleased by the general enthusiasm he got from them. There was a lot of appeal to being on the offensive and making the enemy react to your own moves, rather than arriving well after the shit hit the fan.

Until the time came that they were given the call, Erebus could only be an interested observer who happened to be a cop during the day. His mind was already perusing the online news networks, and subtly negotiating access to NORAD's strategic net without them being the wiser. He needed a satellite, one that might have been able to observe the disaster. It would take time, but unless a deployment order for MSWAT went out, he had all of the time in the world.

_If Nike or Athena were here, this would go much faster._

**MHHQ  
New Tokyo, Japan  
10:12 AM Local Time**

Mega Man X panted with exertion, pulling himself back to his feet with great effort. His azure armor was damaged in many places, his helmet cracked open enough to let some of his dark hair spill freely over a part of his face. Several feet away, Zero panted, gripping one arm that hung loosely to his side, his chest plating actually cracked open somewhat. Both Hunters bore the scars of near misses from a beam saber, and between the two of them lay Zero's own signature weapon, inactive, gleaming in the setting sun. The scene around them was a warzone, burnt out ride armors, the corpses of Mavericks and Hunters alike dotted the landscape. Flames from burning armor or buildings billowed smoke, and the high winds blew the smoke and dust into the air, swirling around them.

"You wanna keep going, X ol' buddy, are you gonna cut that crap out and call me the winner before somebody gets hurt?" Zero sounded exhausted, and his physical state was enough to explain that. He was pissed, and wasn't hiding it.

"Say it." X managed to snarl, suddenly leaping at Zero with almost bestial fury. Zero caught him by one of his outstretched arms, half spinning with the momentum and throwing X onto his face, and he slid a dozen feet through the dirt for his trouble. Zero himself tripped over his feet and fell flat on his back.

"I'll say you improved." He panted.

"You were totally caught by surprise." X grumbled. Around the two, the world faded away into the static white room that was the Simulation Hall. Cheering could be heard from the observation room as the Blue Bomber picked himself up. "I totally used your own beam saber against you, and you were totally surprised. Go ahead and admit it."

"Now see here!" Zero roared, standing up and quickly retrieving his weapon from the ground behind him. "Acting all big and bad, you still lost!"

"Surprised."

"I was not!"

"Lifesaver is going to be less than enthused about this."

"You're changing the subject!"

"You okay Zero?"

"I'm fine! Better off than you." Zero grinned. "You want me to carry you?" This remark earned some 'oooooooooooooooooooohs' from the group of Hunters who had watched everything unfold. It had been quite the show. "Alright people, the circus is done for the day, get back to work!" Zero shouted at the other Hunters.

"Oh shaddup." X limped towards the exit of the room. Zero fell in step next to him, propping him up with a shoulder.

"You're really taking this seriously. This time you suggested taking off the safeties before I did." Zero winced at that. "That's not very like you."

"I need to be able to keep up. If I can keep up with you without any extras, I should be good to go against a Maverick or three." X grunted. "You know the saying, no pain no gain." X frowned. "That really is a stupid saying."

"Well X, it's safe to say you aren't the same guy you were back in 2131. I think you give me more trouble these days than you ever did with the armors."

"See, that's 'cause I surprised you."

"You did not." Zero held up a fist, and X punched it lightly. "Okay, maybe a little."

The two had just gotten to the exit when the door opened on its own. Commander Signas, all eight feet of him, greeted the pair with a very grim expression.

"There's not a call, is there?" X suddenly straightened up.

"If it were only that simple." Signas managed a weak smile as he took note of their physical condition. "I'll follow you to maintenance."

"You really don't look so good, boss." Zero winced as electricity arced between a gap in his chest armor.

"Moscow Hunter Branch Commander Arseny contacted me about twenty minutes ago. Some explosion took out a big energen refinery and a mine in the Ural mountains. The Russian government has called all of the Maverick Hunter Units in Moscow to full military alert. They are essentially wresting them out of GDC control. You probably would be more aware if you had not been training all morning."

"Isn't that within their rights as a GDC member state? Reploids are still ultimately nationals of the country that produced them, and they are military units unofficially." X leaned to the right, guiding himself and Zero down a corridor that would lead them to Medical. "Of course, we'll never really know if national identity is something programmed into reploids or if it is something gained through experience."

"They are being redeployed to the Kazahkstan-China-Mongolia-Russian border crossing. The entire Moscow Maverick Hunter contingent, effective today. It is closest to the site of the detonations."

"The Russians think the Chinese or Kazahkstan are responsible." X said flatly. "Considering their political history post 2090's I suppose We shouldn't be too surprised."

"Or someone who is responsible crossed there. This is a fine mess." Zero growled. "Do we know it was a military action of some kind, or are they overreacting?"

"It is not new for the Russian Federation to make use of Maverick Hunters as they see fit, but to take them out of their capital... Commander Arseny says they may as well be on war footing. As far as probable cause, I will show you some footage he sent me when we get you both settled in Medical."

As X and Zero limped in, they were greeted immediately by Lifesaver with a glare on his face and a finger pointed at a pair of maintenance beds. After Hazil, the former head of MHHQ Medical, made his abrupt departure from service, the GDC had been nice enough to send over Lifesaver. He'd arrived in New Tokyo in much the same way Signas had, straight as an arrow, and expecting everything to be done in a certain way every time, just like all of his identical brothers that found themselves deployed around the world for use by Maverick Hunters. Within a year, the reploid had learned and experienced a small part of what had nearly driven his predecessor mad. Zero had preferred to say that they had 'broken' him and rebuilt him into their own version of Lifesaver.

"You can't keep doing this to me. I won't have it, I simply won't." He did a double take towards the third reploid. "Oh. Commander Signas. You're not injured. Have you come to join me in reminding these two about the concept of restraint during training?"

"No. I am just here to provide some relevant information in regards to the incident earlier this morning."

"Will this concern me, or is this above my pay grade?"

"There is no need to excuse yourself." Signas activated one of many displays that hung from the walls before each bed. "This is from a civilian satellite that happened to be passing overhead of the facility. It is not video, but there are at least thirty frames that it had taken before the technician realized what he was looking at and alerted authorities. Arseny is former military himself, so he used his connections with FSB to get these pictures."

The first frames showed nothing in particular, mostly cloud cover from the blizzard. The resolution of the photos was high enough that they could make out the roofs of several structures, and the lighting they emanated. Various guard towers rose above everything else, but they couldn't see much else.

There was one frame that was considerably darker among them.

"The power was cut." Zero said immediately. "The power was cut, the perps move in…"

The next frame was lit back up as normal. The next, the next, the next-

"What's that over there?" X pointed at a small monorail station that had become visible as the weather seemed to lighten up between stills.

"That was the rail that lead to the destroyed mine. The facility itself was destroyed first, then the mine."

"So they hit the facility first, used the monorail, took out the mine."

The next frame came up, and the weather was clearer. They could make out searchlights. Emanating from the towers, all pointing to something else that was still somewhat masked by clouds and snow. The next frame showed an explosion. The next, ride armors moving out from concealment. The next, they could begin making out figures with rifles now, some lay prone in red pools that stood out from the white. They could see the searchlights now facing away from the first blast, aiming towards something else.

Another frame, covered in smaller explosions, blotting away the towers, with a number also occurring around the facility perimeter. They could see a ride armor lying in the snow completely disabled. They saw small flashes of blue that stood out distinctly among the weapons fire being exchanged.

"Buster fire. That was charged plasma. Reploids did this." X managed. Signas nodded in agreement. "My God."

"Not just any reploids. Military models. Arseny and myself are in agreement. It is impossible for a garden variety Maverick to be capable of such a precisely planned operation. I am considering heading to Russia myself to investigate the site, once I get the necessary clearance from the Kremlin. For now, they obviously have the same pictures we do. They know about as much as we do. They have more reason to suspect other countries than we do. But they are staying silent. Feeling the situation out. I doubt it will be for very long, though."

"This isn't Sigma's style." Zero hopped into his maintenance bed. "When he was the commander here, he might have showed this sort of tactical capability. Even factoring in the URFAWP mess and the scuffle a couple years back, Sigma's Generals weren't half as subtle. The Russians really do have a reason to be almost freaking out. I suppose we can thank God we don't have to put him on the list of suspects. Yet."

"I would not put this past Sigma, considering what he is. Reploids are capable of learning from their mistakes. Even the stubborn ones. Assumptions can wait until after I learn more about the situation in Russia. If I learn more." Signas shut off the monitor. "Get back up to operational standards. I expect I will be away by the time Lifesaver and his staff are finished with the two of you, which will leave you both in command." He paused as he was walking out the door, and turned back to the pair with a small grin, something they didn't see every day. "Haven't the two of you learned about the concept of restraint while training? You're going to kill eachother some day with your foolish antics!" He snapped, before strutting out the door. They all swore they heard him whistle.

"X."

"Yeah Zero?"

"He strutted. He was strutting. And smiling. Intentionally. Like to be amusing. Remind you of someone?"

"Yeah. Him. Oh man, that was-"

"Different."

"Yeah."

Lifesaver was off to the side doubled over from laughing.

**South China Sea****  
145 miles north of Spratly Island  
11:00 AM Local**

Nike rarely completely shutdown for a night's rest. A reploid did not need sleep, and she did not like losing awareness of her surroundings or of the passage of time. She could not afford to be unaware of things for a moment, as the Commander of the Few, they needed her to be available at a moment's notice. They'd modified the conn of their recently gifted vessel with a energy filler that would tend to her needs as they arose. She sat languidly in the command chair, with a series of cables protruding from various places along her back and chest, the filler humming away. The joke that she herself had made was that it was necessary to tie her down in the ship to prevent her from escaping. She hated the ocean. She weighed almost three hundred pounds in combat gear, and was about as buoyant as an anchor. Being under the ocean's surface for extended periods, as relatively safe as it was inside the ship, did not appeal to her at all.

It was a significantly modified Chinese Zhou Class Assault Submarine, a holdover from the late 2090's. The hull had been compromised during a test exercise in this very sea fifteen years before, melted through by a runaway reactor. The Chinese had done what they could to strip it of anything valuable, but had let the hulk rest at the bottom of the sea after they took what they felt was necessary. They had left behind a fantastic canvas to work with, and Nike's benefactor had indeed made the best of such a gift. The 205 meter long boat had been converted into a mobile fortress of sorts, able to take on VTOL polycraft and ride armor easily. She retained all sixteen Vertical Launch Systems, and had an additional two launch tubes for torpedoes or supercavitation weapons, giving her a six barreled punch to bring to any fight, should the need arise. Fast for her size, and silent as any modern combat sub, it was the reason why everything suddenly felt within their reach. They all collectively agreed to call her _Wrath of Olympus_. It was fitting.

"Nike, Black Zero Zero One is aboard and secure." The intercom crackled.

"Understood. Everyone secure the ship for immediate dive."

The rumbling of the closing bay doors above her came and went. Her internal network confirmed the ship was ready for dive. The onboard AI plotted a course that would get the submarine off of the eastern coast of China, in the Yellow Sea. A variety of reports appeared in her vision, informing her of local force estimates in the waters they would be traveling. It would be close, but they would make the next event as scheduled.

_Are you awake, N?_ blinked across the center of her vision. The reploid quickly straightened up in her chair, yanking her cables free, acting as though she were a girl giving herself one last look before opening the door to her blind date.

_Of course I am, H_. A smile warmed her typically neutral visage._ I miss you. We all do._

_You still see her face?_

_I could never forget it._

_I have good news, but you already have seen it._

_It's working. It actually is going to work. Where are you?_

_I'm up here making the preparations._ At that, Nike looked up, wishing she could see through the cold bulkhead above her. _V will be in position in six days. I will be coming back down in two. Nervous?_

_Relieved you'll be here._

_We will make them pay, won't we N?_

_All of them, H._

_That's good. I'm losing connection with you. You are submerging, yes?_

_I miss you._ Nike brushed a finger against her lips gently. _Be safe up there._

_As safe as one can be in zero g. Be safe N. Try and sleep._

_Maybe when I see you again._

The message window vanished from sight. She was alone again and yet not. She was connected to every member of the Few. She saw the low key celebration unfold as Team Gray and Team Oxide, along with their controller, stepped off of their VTOL, other members of the Few helping them strip off the heavy arctic gear, securing the craft to the deck with cables. She saw some resting in their recharge racks, others playing cards. She wondered if this was how a mother felt. She wondered if this was how Apollo had felt.

_He wouldn't approve of all this. He died because of his attachments to this world. This is not a world for reploids or humans. We have to make it one_.

Six days until 'V' was in position. Two until 'H' returned from skies above. Everything was proceeding on schedule.


	4. Phase 2: The Slow Burn of a Lit Fuse

**Phase 2: The Slow Burn of a Lit Fuse**

**Ural Mountains  
December 2****nd****, 2133 8:43PM Local Time**

Signas was uncertain if his designers had predicted his frame would be used in so many varied environments over the course of his career. Like his Russian counterpart Arseny, he was designed to be an especially dangerous administrator, and while combat was easily within his capability, it wasn't his primary function. He suspected that traversing through knee-deep snow while enduring temperatures that would keep most humans indoors and next to heating units was something they hadn't quite focused on when they assembled him. His joints protested against ice that was constantly building up and subsequently being melted as his systems adjusted his internal temperatures accordingly, and despite being equipped with some of the best optics the GDC could spare at the time, they could only enhance so much of the almost permanently white world around him.

To his left was Arseny, who was clearly built for this sort of work, or at least modified to handle it with greater ease. Like Signas, he could never tire from marching in these miserable conditions so long as his reactor was operational and his internal energy stores were optimal. That didn't make it somehow more enjoyable for him. Around them, in a security wheel formation, was a squad of now former Maverick Hunters that Arseny had picked for this assignment. The team of twelve reploids were scouring the mountains between the ruined processing facility and collapsed mine, looking for the second Tarantula that had gone missing in its pursuit of the 'terrorists' behind the incident.

"The terrain here is unsteady." Arseny announced.

"Possible avalanche?" One of the guards asked. "The rest of the snow pack is stable thirty meters behind us."

"If it went down here, and caused an avalanche, it is possible it is much further down the mountain. It is a good sign."

"Would there not be a distress beacon from the support AI on the polycraft?" Signas shivered involuntarily in the snow. "If we've heard nothing from the pilots, they could have died on impact, but we would have received a signal from the AI."

"Unless the AI is also damaged beyond salvage, in which case this is all a waste of time." Arseny muttered. "We should be more hopeful for a positive outcome, yes?" And so, they marched on.

"We can't follow this terrain too far down, there is a vertical drop about eight hundred meters ahead of us, if the GPS is correct." Another guard warned. "Wait a moment, metallic masses, two hundred and three meters ahead. Unable to enhance for visual confirmation. One mass is estimated to be nineteen meters in length, the other is near it, possibly behind it, distorting the scanning." The reploid smiled. "There it is."

"It is about seven meters short of an operational Tarantula." Arseny sounded much less pleased.

Their pace quickened, and within minutes, they were treated to the mangled forward fuselage sticking out of the snow. The forward canopy had been clearly blasted inward, and blood was clearly visible, frozen to the glass. A little beyond the wreck a part of the tail section was visible, barely protruding through the snow. The guards set up a security perimeter around the wreck, and the team called in the discovery to the local Spetsnaz commander. Conditions made sending in a recovery polycraft unlikely.

The pilots were indeed dead, the obvious victims of high caliber magrifle rounds through the canopy, completely unrecognizable to family if they ever got to see the corpses. The support AI, too, was dead, the storage unit for it fried beyond repair. Interestingly enough, there was still electric power on the vehicle, with a blinking message left behind by the AI on the remaining useable monitors.

'_**Under orders of Captain Sokolov and in accordance to established protocols, this unit has deemed it necessary to terminate self in order to conserve remaining battery power onboard this unit, in order to preserve the Mission Recorder data. Time remaining on internal battery 2hr 26min 32sec**_'

**Orbital Platform SKYLIGHT Recovery Sector Two  
December 3rd, 2133**

In the aftermath of Repliforce's ill-fated stand on the orbital weapon platform that had become known as the Final Weapon, it suffered from a series of catastrophic blasts that rendered the station nearly unusable. Worse yet, a cloud of debris had begun to spread from it. It was the worst case of Kessler Syndrome seen in over thirty years, and it was playing hell with space capable nations' abilities to maintain satellites for telecommunications, warp transfer networks, or surveillance. The recovery effort around SKYLIGHT was extensive, an international project meant to collect as much of the stuff as was possible by human or reploid hands. Against the protests that regularly occurred worldwide, SKYLIGHT was also being brought back online, its barrel pointed safely away from earth. Despite constant assurances that it would never be pointed at Earth and fired in anger, it had become the symbol of many activists. This was the gun pointed at head of the world. Human supremacists went a step further, citing history as their vindicator. They fanned the flames of prejudice against reploids by asking if Repliforce had come so close to unleashing the weapon on Earth before, what was to stop another organized group of Mavericks from actually succeeding the next time? Conveniently ignoring Sigma's hand in the whole affair.

The reploid who went by the name Hecatonchire was a part of that effort for another two hours before he would turn in his EVA gear and take the first shuttle back to terra firma. An odd sort, born with four arms and the physique of a superhero, he was a great asset to the recovery efforts around SKYLIGHT. He could handle more debris at once than the average collector, reploid, feraloid, or human. His electronic brain could process over a thousand tasks simultaneously, making him the ideal controller for the hundreds of drones Station Two would deploy each day for smaller debris collection and disposal.

The drones themselves were modern day refinements to the original Metool design. After so many decades, the LightTech robot was still used by nations and organizations around the world, though now produced by different manufacturers. A modular design at their core, the Metools he guided were armed with light plasma busters that could maintain a charge large enough to vaporize debris that wasn't worth collecting, and with their EVA thrusters, enough Metools could handle the large debris, stabilize it enough for human and reploid crews to retrieve it and see if it could be reused. They performed constant maintenance to SKYLIGHT itself. Despite the damage it had sustained, two miracles had occurred. One was that the station itself hadn't been outright destroyed. The second being that despite being inoperable at the moment, enough the systems related to gathering, maintaining, and firing the weapon were in a state that could lead to eventual restoration of its ability to fire within months at the rate things were going.

Aboard SKYLIGHT itself, the same fusion generators that could eventually power the weapon once more powered a small colony block that housed the workers of the restoration project. It was Hecaton's eventual destination.

He was going to be happy returning to the Earth. Knowing that land was solidly beneath his feet was something he'd taken for granted until he'd gone into hiding here. Thanks to Nike's information manipulation, the civilian staff here had no way of knowing that he was a Maverick from the 2nd RSF. They wouldn't suspect that one of the hardest workers on the SKYLIGHT restoration was something else entirely different from the facade he'd put on day after day. In a way, he felt bad about the deception. It was true that humanity had its own share of flawed individuals, but there were a lot of good humans out here risking their lives to try and make Earth a little safer. They just didn't happen to be in control of things. Because of a few, many would need to suffer.

_Hey there four-arms. You look distracted._ The voice over his internal comms was from Solar Falcon, another former combat reploid with a much less dubious past than Hecatonchire. He was originally built for the Japanese Aerospace Self Defense Force in 2119, part of the 1st Airborne Brigade. After 2124, Solar had left the military and started doing space construction work as part of the GDC's 'Mission in Space' program, and hadn't been back on Earth ever since. He was heavily modified to handle space flight, and his wing verniers gave him maneuverability that was unparalleled by other reploids in the recovery teams, and he was further distinguished by his unique red and orange color scheme that made him look as though he was perpetually covered in flames.

_Today's my last day. I think I'll actually miss this work._ Hecatonchires smiled as he looked across the outstretched SKYLIGHT, the sun reflecting gently around its edges.

_The sooner we get this done, the better. I'm not comfortable working on a buster that is meant to destroy small oncoming moons. We'll miss you up here, Hec._ Solar's wings flapped, an interesting gesture to make when they did nothing without the assistance of his verniers._ It'll take at least three reploids to handle the drones in our section the way you do alone._

_Come on now, I value myself to be worth at least five regular controllers._ They shared a laugh at that. _You ever think about going back down there?_

_I have thought about being a Hunter. But the future isn't down there. It's up here. Look at how much freedom we have in space._

_You think so?_

_I know so._ Falcon looked as convinced as his birdlike face allowed. _Even after so much war, humanity still fights over what meager resources the planet has to offer, what land is still safe to inhabit. Out here, we've just started to conquer the difficulties of living in space. We've only just started constructing colonies. People have to work together, or nobody survives. Humanity needs that challenge, they need something to rally against._

_Sounds like a form of manifest destiny. I agree that people need something to band together against, but they will always find something to fight over._

_That's pessimistic. You're probably right._ Falcon looked down at the blue and white marble that spun beneath them. _I guess the real reason I don't want to go back down there is that I don't have someone waiting for me, not like you. All my friends are up here. Except of course you, when you go back down to Earth._

_She needs me, and I need her._ Hecatonchire said simply.

_Must be nice._ The bird reploid ducked his head slightly as one of the many metools in the local space buzzed past him, hauling a case that stored the many smaller pieces of debris it had collected. _Tell you what, since today your temporary contract is expiring, why don't you turn in early and get your shit squared away before going home? You can let the little guys roam alone and they'll still get some work done. We'll grab a drink before you split, too._

_I appreciate it, boss. _Hecatonchire meant it sincerely. Solar Falcon was the sort of reploid who tried to make work as easy as it possibly could be for not just himself, but everyone he worked with.

_What can I say, I better be nice to the guy that earned the whole section time off with your work protocols on the Metools. I'll catch up with you in a bit._ Waving Hecaton off, Falcon was already gliding towards a cluster of workers who were moving a larger piece of debris as a team.

* * *

His room on the colony cluster was spartan. There was nothing Hecatonchire had acquired during his brief tenure around SKYLIGHT to be worth holding on to for very long, save for the time it had bought him, and the modifications he'd undergone to hide his true origins. As far as anyone knew, he was a repurposed reploid from the failed Apollo rebellion, and he had no memories of his past due to the process. There had been other models like himself, who had technically died in combat, but it had been easy to alter the records and his appearance to be one of them and not one of two missing officers.

He mind burned with the memories of fallen comrades. He had forgotten nothing. When Apollo was facing down his betrayers in the arcology, Hecatonchire was given the order to silently take command of as many of the security systems that held watch over the hostages, and release them. Afterwards, he, like many others of the rebellion, surrendered. Nike had not, along with a small contingent that had fled rather than submit. She had come to him as he waited to be taken away by authorities, and they slipped quietly away. She had saved him. He owed her everything.

Everything he had done, here around SKYLIGHT, was for her and the plan. He felt for Solar Falcon's misplaced friendship, for the humans that trusted him implicitly, but it was just how things would have to be. His mind was clear. His cause was just.

"You really don't have much. I collect all sorts of stuff." Falcon said as he floated into the room, carefully folding his wings so he wouldn't clip the door. "You're gonna miss your flight."

The colony block on SKYLIGHT was still a fairly recent addition to the structure, and artificial gravity was limited to the human quarters, primarily out of health concerns for them. A reploid could live in zero g with no ill effects, but humans tended to deteriorate in muscle and bone mass without gravity. It was a problem that had no immediate solution except to apply gravity that was near earthlike conditions. When SKYLIGHTs structure was further stabilized, the colony block could be rotated properly and bring gravity to all sectors without the need for specialized and limited generators.

"Hey, lets grab a drink. One last one." Hecatonchire said, sounding distracted as he glanced down at another small holographic image of Nike, the resolution recreating her every detail flawlessly.

"She's a looker. Former military too?"

"That she is. Come on."

They didn't have far to travel. The departure gate was relatively close by, and next to it was a café that catered primarily to reploids and their unique tastes. Falcon had offered to buy, and Hecaton saw no need to dispute that.

"Whatcha gonna do on Earth, anyway? Ever since September, there's not been a lot of work for military grade reploids like us down there. Except being a Hunter, that is. You signing up for that?"

"Nah. Doesn't appeal."

"Don't blame you. French Reploid Legion then? I got a buddy who's stationed in former Libya with them. Bet they'd love to have you."

"Good guess, but no. My girl has got ties to the People's Liberation Army."

"China! Well that is pretty damned lucky. They've been looking to increase the number of reploids in service while the rest of the world seems to be shrinking down on our numbers. I guess you gotta take what you can get, us and them. I bet their mods aren't gonna be as solid as JSDF or US Army stuff, but as long as the parts mesh, what the hell." Falcon finished off his drink in a single gulp. Hecaton sipped calmly on his.

"As long as the parts mesh." The Maverick agreed.

**MSWAT LA  
4:30PM PST**

Kindle was one of the few feraloids that remained from the original MSWAT that stormed Arcology Two South back in September, and was very proud of being a feraloid, different from the majority of the unit. For a long time, it had been difficult to resist the urge to close the range with a Maverick and fight it hand-to-hand as he'd originally been designed to do. Despite extensive modification and training, they hadn't been able to get rid of the wild, aggressive look that made him stand out from the others, and they would have better luck killing him than convincing him to give up on the plasma cutters on his fingertips and palms. His 'lion's mane' was a series of stylized vents that emitted flames at his command, which further served to intimidate less experienced or crazed Mavericks.

Right now, it was his great pleasure to look as intimidating as he could while shouting at the newer additions to MSWAT.

"Goddamnit! Do you people think you're subduing HUMANS?! Practice doesn't mean shit if you don't throw each other like you mean it! You're reploids, you're made to break shit and rebuild it afterwards! Try it again!"

Thirty reploids grabbed the arms of thirty others, and roughly yanked them into the air and back down with very loud impacts to the ground. The sound of metal and plastics being stressed to near their limits brought a smile to the feraloid's face.

"That's better! You can't always rely on a buster or a melee weapon to bring down your targets. Mavericks'll beat the shit out of you if you don't mean it with every punch, every throw, every kick. Don't you DARE let me catch you acting like a brawler in the field or I will personally end your pathetic lives! You might think learning martial arts as a reploid is worthless, but I guarantee you if you know how to move with DISCIPLINE, you will beat anyone who doesn't!"

It wasn't common enough, according to The Captain, that reploids trained in martial disciplines derived from older forms of unarmed combat. The truth was that in many cases, this wasn't always necessary. A reploid could produce more raw physical strength than a human without the need to work out, and learning something as simple as a physical act could be reduced to downloading a skill set off of the net. Much like humans, it was one thing to understand how to do something, but to have physical experience in the act was more valuable to a reploid. They were practicing a form of Krav Maga that was decidedly more brutal on targets and training partners alike. It had to be. Ideally, if you were forced into unarmed combat with a Maverick, you wanted to take off limbs, disable them at the very least. Mavericks, unless otherwise ordered, were not meant to be taken alive, and if they were, they didn't necessarily have to be in one piece.

"Going hard on the rooks as always." Hilde's voice came from behind him. "What are we today. Navy SEALS? Rangers? Force Recon?"

"You know I ain't cut out for bein' nice when it comes to this. Mavericks'll treat 'em a hell of a lot worse than I do." Kindle relaxed a bit. "Alright kids, take a break!" There were sixty shouts of 'Yes sir' in reply.

"My, aren't they disciplined!" Hilde said in a somewhat mocking tone to Kindle. "You might even say they are afraid of you, ya big softie!"

"Hey hey hey, you keep that up I might lose that edge." Kindle turned to face the smaller reploid with his fists up in a defensive posture. "Care to go a few rounds?"

"Don't want to embarrass you in front of the kids. The Captain wants us to meet in his office, anyway."

"He can wait five minutes. C'mon."

"It's about Vangaurd."

Kindle marched past her towards the exit of the training room.

* * *

"We're being summoned by an investigative taskforce in regards to the event on December 1st." The Captain began simply. "Nothing glamorous, but as of yesterday, we were essentially activated by President Souther and the Joint Chiefs." Sitting across from him were Hilde, Kindle, the human Lars Wilder, Charlie team leader, and another reploid named Mill, who was formerly under Hilde's command, promoted to Delta lead when the position had become open.

"We're being sent as investigators?" Mill sounded disappointed.

"Commander Arseny from the Moscow Maverick Hunters had his entire unit reassigned to the guarding and restoration of the facility, backing up a Spetznaz division. Technically, the Hunters are a GDC organization, so this has caused a bit of a stir. As of yesterday, Russia has no official Maverick Hunter units, they've all been 'legally' reassigned to the Russian Army, and are slowly being redeployed closer to the Chinese border."

"Well that's bad." Kindle remarked. "So, why us?"

"Not very long after the incident in September, one of the missing commanders of the rebellion turned up at MHHQ." Nike's face and figure appeared in the air over The Captain's desk. "She hasn't done much to change her physical appearance, but this is definitely number Seven of Twelve, Nike. Apparently she bypassed all of their electronic defenses without being detected, and only allowed a single Hunter to see her, key word being 'allowed'. No known motive for it, no real crime except her very existence, but we all know what the rest of her friends tried to do before. It's the sort of thing she was built for though. Intelligence gathering, electronic warfare, and she was easily the best of all the reploids in the 2nd RSF that did that kind of work, and she wasn't a slouch in a fight."

The four squad leaders understood the amount reverence Erebus was laying thick about the Maverick. After everything had settled down somewhat, he'd told his people an abridged history of his involvement with the Mavericks when they had been just another well oiled and obedient cog in the US war machine. It have the incident a certain sense of irony. Nobody truly envied his position, to have ordered without hesitation actions that would kill former comrades, all for the same reasons he originally stood at their side at one time. That he hadn't grown disillusioned from it all spoke volumes about the reploid.

"Where's this put us?" Hilde asked.

"The Russian government wants to run a set of exercises that recreate, more or less, the conditions that the facility was under before it got blown off the map. What little they've managed to reconstruct from the security systems had them request the US to send over the US Army's 1st RSF to run these scenarios, because frankly, they didn't want to believe the Chinese were responsible at first. The US is in no position to send a military unit into Russia right now however, not with the GDC lording over the 'Chinese Situation' as much as they are. It's a lot more discrete to send over something that doesn't exist as a military unit in the guise of training MSWAT personnel for similar situations that may occur within the US."

"You're saying after analysis, they felt the work was more characteristic of the US special forces. Specifically, a reploid unit." Mill said. "We don't have any reason to do that, the Chinese don't, but somebody wants the world to think that they did.

"Exactly." The Captain motioned to his datapad on the desk. "Yesterday, Commander Signas from MHHQ was leading a small team with Arseny down the mountain where the tram leading to the destroyed mine is located. They found a downed Tarantula buried by an avalanche, the pilots apparently dead from magrifle rounds before it ever crashed. The flight recorder was recovered from the wreck entirely intact, and the gun camera data is very relevant to our interests." With that, he turned the datapad to face his squad leaders and started the footage he had queued up.

The camera footage was surprisingly clear. They could see the ill-fated mountain pursuit play out, the polycraft weaving between buster shots and laying down fire of its own without success. The video paused as a sudden radar contact appeared on the display in the upper right corner of the display.

"That's their exfiltration. The contact is very faint, but it is definitely not Russian. Here's where it gets bad."

The video continued, the craft sweeping around in front of the fleeing Mavericks, the gunner fighting the bad weather and the violent flying of his pilot trying to land hits on the targets. The camera jostled violently, and suddenly windows flashed across the screen. Life signs for pilot and gunner terminated. The footage froze once more, and Erebus again pointed at the radar display.

"The AI designated the contact, just before the pilots were killed, as a Chinese Type 103 'Hedgehog' transport polycraft."

"Oh hell." Hilde said.

"Things have gotten really quiet between Russia and China since the first of the month, but troop movements in Russia are all plainly moving towards their border. Beijing is their likely target, should an invasion actually proceed, not that it'd be easy. The Chinese have yet to make an official statement in regards to this, but I imagine there's a lot of wheeling and dealing going on right now that we're not privy to. Even the GDC is being quiet about this. Everyone's afraid to make the first move, but it's pretty clear that something will happen, unless we discover who set this up and why. If you want to start a war, why use a single special forces team? You'd deploy many more units, execute many strikes over a set period of time on multiple targets. As things stand now, Russia is more prepared to invade to the south than China is prepared to move north, though that is changing."

"What if this isn't a set up?" Mill had brought up the other frightening possibility. "What if the Chinese really are responsible, and they're just playing coy about it to throw off the world? That energen refinery means a lot to Russia and its clients, it could be a clear case of deliberate sabotage of their infrastructure."

"That's still more of a long term effect to be shooting for. There was literally nothing that politically suggests the Chinese were preparing to do this. Militarily, they've been caught with their pants down, the Russians have more troops and equipment at the border now than the Chinese do. You'd think that if they were preparing to go to war they'd have mobilized sooner."

"So lets pretend things go south, and a war does break out." Lars said. "Who would we be sided with?"

"The US government hasn't made any official policy statements surrounding the build up at the Russo-Chinese border. The truth is, Russia is almost on the same level with the US when it comes to the GDC, and China is currently the most powerful and loyal member state to the GDC. As for us, I'm disinclined to pick a side. I didn't turn us into just another special operations unit for the US to protect its interests with." Erebus smiled. "I'll admit, part of me would rather this be some sort of conspiracy involving Mavericks, even ones that I used to know personally. It would help defuse things. At the end of the day, we're still cops, trailing after Maverick elements that may or may not be involved with these recent events."

"Sounds nice, but what if push comes to shove, and we gotta choose for ourselves?" Kindle pressed. "You know, we'll be treading into dangerous ground. We could be responsible for human deaths."

"Let's hope it doesn't come to that. It isn't something that feels good to have on your conscience. I would know."

**Earthbound Flight 25  
Old Tokyo Airspace  
9:32 AM**

Hecatonchire was one of six passengers on the small shuttle, all of whom reploids. The ride through the upper atmosphere had been smooth, deftly handled by the onboard navigation computers. He looked as though her were sleeping. The other five were far more conversational, but after repeated attempts to ask him what he was doing coming back to Earth without a response, they assumed he was either unfriendly or sleeping.

He'd taken every detail of their conversation. Every person they were happy to see again. New jobs that may have been lined up. Everything was heard, and stored away for later use. He wanted to remember the reploids he was about to murder, as he remembered everything from every single combat mission he had ever undertaken. He thought it respectful to be a walking record of those lives he had cut short, for whatever the reason.

When he stood, it had startled the other passengers. It was then that they recognized just how massive he was, almost barely able to fit in the passenger compartment at his full height. His body seemed to expand. Pieces of armor shifted around all over his form, hiding his blue and white color scheme with black and gunmetal gray, and he seemed to expand in size as small micro missile racks revealed themselves along his torso. His two lower arms folded in half on themselves, and from the stumps extended a pair of heavy auto cannons, the barrels whining as they spun into operational readiness. His shoulder armor slid back and revealed a set of focusing crystals. Even his legs changed, becoming thicker, better able to stabilize him for when he unleashed his firepower. If there were an exit directly behind him, none of the passengers could conceivably squeeze past him to make a break for it, not that they had the time to consider it. They all registered some degree of shock on their faces, but only one was able to speak.

"M-m-m-MAVERICK!?"

"I suppose that's all I really am now, isn't it?"

The shuttle fractured from within, light pouring through natural and unnatural cracks and seams in its structure before a final blast ended it. Bits of debris rained down on the grave of Old Tokyo, a fitting, if somewhat unnatural addition.

A lone figure descended from the expanding cloud of smoke and flame, a specific objective in mind.

**JGSDF Nerima Base  
Old Tokyo, Japan  
10:00 AM**

Security at a JSDF base was typically as tight as any other base found around the world for any other nation, an oddity for a country that since World War Two had done its best to avoid immersing itself in international conflict, and only when its hand was forced had its self defense force gone on the offensive. It had taken much to finally persuade the Japanese to create a series of amendments to circumvent Article Nine of their constitution and put their forces abroad in a series of missions that forwarded American and their own interests. Japan had remained a curious ally to the super power, and even followed its hasty exit from the GDC 's military ventures, to the dismay of beleaguered peacekeepers worldwide.

The modern JSDF as a whole, however, was nowhere near as tested for sustained combat as its contemporaries. Even counting that the nation had been the home of Sigma's Rebellion, Japan had been spared the worst of two world wars by comparison of other victim nations, and with its high numbers of reploids in country, rebuilding after incidents and Maverick outbreaks was quick, efficient, and went on without much disruption to the average citizen. With the last few months, the relative peace from Mavericks had beguiled much of the world, and Japan was no exception.

Which was why when a four armed reploid armed with a pair of 30mm anti-armor autocannons marched through a rear gate in full armor, politely asking the shocked human gate guards to stand aside or die before opening up on any armored vehicle he could see within a thousand meters, there had been a delay before the call for the Maverick Hunters went out. A nightmare that had just begun to seemingly fade from the minds of people had returned with an explosive reminder.

_Nike. I need you to support me._

_I'll begin my intervention now, then. Be careful._

_Always._

* * *

Gavin, commander of the famed 21st Lightning Strike Unit, arrived on site within a minute after the call. He brought out his orange tinted beam saber, 'the most dangerous carrot ever', giving it a single practice swing before replacing it onto his charging pack. A moment later, a set of heavier combat armor materialized around his standard humanoid form, and a land chaser flashed into existence next to him.

"HQ, Gavin's on the scene." The reploid climbed aboard his mount, feeling it stir beneath his legs with power. It was as anxious to get moving as he was.

"JSDF confirms they have a satellite network preparing a localized EM field right now." came a voice from his helmet comms. "Your quarry isn't going anywhere. Jad and Kol are reporting they are ten minutes out via Land Chaser. The 17th and the 0 units are on active standby. Good hunting, Commander Gavin."

That had been one of the newer 'Navigators' that the GDC had started to introduce to larger Maverick Hunter bases around the world, a cute, pink haired thing that probably never equipped a buster for longer than it took to take a qualification exam, named Nana. Her voice was steady, as though she were reading from a script, and for the first time since their introduction to the HQ he appreciated the calm manner that they were typically trained to conduct themselves in. There were others like her at HQ, monitoring other Hunter patrols constantly, and there was a specific navigator assigned to each unit. Nana was the 'voice from above' for the 21st.

"Awright, lets do this." He was off like a shot, barreling through the gates with his emergency lights flashing, swerving past the burnt out hulks of jeeps, APC's, a few tanks, and a ride armor. _Somebody's having fun._

It had been, for all intents and purposes, surprisingly bloodless. There were injuries, to be sure, but according to accounts from several soldiers he only slowed his advance to listen to, the Maverick in question was purposefully trying to avoid killing humans and reploids, though it was obviously impossible. That had been a shocker. Mavericks generally didn't warn people to get out of the way. In the air, Gavin could hear the loud buzz saw like sound of autocannons opening up in the distance as he closed in on the main armory. He saw a light recon polycraft lift into the air, only to be sawed almost precisely in half by the roaring guns before it had gotten much altitude.

He leaned into a tight turn around a burning hangar, caught sight of his Maverick, and cursed. He was massive. It explained his ability to bring so much destruction alone, and his helmet called out key points of interest on the Maverick which confirmed that this was definitely a military unit of some kind. Nana's voice came through the net a moment later.

"Gavin, that Maverick has been IDed as a US Army Mobile Artillery Command Class Reploid!" She didn't sound as calm as she did before, and indeed, behind her there was definitely a buzz in the air back at the command center.

"Well it's good to know what the thing pointing guns at me is called." He snapped back.

"Maverick Hunter! I advise you to call reinforcements or withdraw!" The Maverick shouted at Gavin, having completed its turn to face the Hunter, its autocannons leveled at him.

_That's nice of him._ "Hey Nana, get the whole 21st on the pad and out here as soon as you can!"

"Already done, X gave authorization before you even asked. He says deployment of the 17th and 0 unit is still your call. We can't lift the bubble around the facility until the situation is dealt with!"

Gavin did not respond. He was already dodging incoming fire. So he originally thought. _Not very subtle,_ he thought as it dawned upon him. He was being guided by the autocannon fire, led towards something-

The shoulders on the Maverick flared. Heat warnings lit up his full display as Gavin leaped free of his Land Chaser as it started to crumple in on itself, melting horribly under the weapon, spiraling off course and exploding a moment later. The Hunter let his momentum carry him towards the Maverick, rolling once in mid-air, drawing his saber, and igniting his dash thrusters, landing in front of the walking artillery piece, and sliding within striking distance of his saber, pointed at the Maverick's throat.

"I see, you're holding me here until your friends arrive. You're quite skilled."

"Lotta people have faith in me. I better earn it."

Heat warnings flared up again, and Gavin slid back a dozen meters as the concrete under him melted. He dashed to the left, realizing he was back in autocannon range, the heavy thuds of armor piercers on the ground behind him punctuated by the buzzsaw sound of the twin guns on the Maverick. The fire stopped, and Gavin realized he'd gotten out of the firing arc of the big guy. _Bigger they are, as they say!_ He had a good view of the back of the monster now, and was already shifting his weight to move back in and take off his head from behind, when a series of missile racks revealed themselves along the back.

_OH SHIT!_

Two dozen micro missiles streamed away from the racks, and it was all Gavin could do to simply avoid the barrage, backdashing again, then twisting around and putting full power into his boots as the missiles chewed up the ground behind him. He heard the auto cannons spin up again, and chancing a look behind him Gavin was surprised to see the Maverick facing him down. He was definitely faster than he was letting on. He managed to get behind what was left of another APC, and the incoming fire stopped almost immediately. He heard more missiles, but the sound told him they were traveling away from him. He looked into the sky and saw a literal swarm of JSDF drones of all kinds in the sky, throwing down a considerable barrage towards the Maverick, who confirmed his surprising speed by sliding along the the ground, spinning around incoming barrages and throwing back a withering assault of his own. _Coulda used you guys about twenty seconds ago._

It did mean that the Maverick has his attention elsewhere for the moment. Forming a buster from his left hand, Gavin started gathering a charge as quickly as his systems allowed.

"Hunter! I commend your efforts, wasted as they might have been! I am glad to see that the Hunters are the perfect example of the kind of Reploid this world needs!" The Maverick's voice echoed across the base, clearly heard over the explosions in the air and on the ground. For a moment, the Hunter wondered if the Maverick was actually transmitting directly into his secured comms. "I'd like to meet you again under better circumstances!"

_You ain't going nowhere, buddy._ Gavin though as he swung around his piece of cover, his buster readied, just in time to see the Maverick turn into a beam of silver light that raced to the sky. _Especially with that beam barrier up._

"Gavin! Gavin are you okay?" Nana was shouting now, apparently worried that he hadn't been responding. He'd gotten so caught up in the moment he'd tuned the operator out.

"I'm here, I'm here."

"Gavin, the EM field, it went down! The satellites aren't responding to any commands, we don't know what caused it!"

"...Really?" The Hunter sighed. He didn't blame himself for the escape. There were far too many things working against him, the big one being the Maverick himself. Without quick reinforcement, there was little chance he could have taken him down. In the past, he'd taken down a Maverick general alone, in the middle of a significantly nastier battle than this, and he'd almost killed himself to do it. His transition to leadership had tempered that side of him somewhat. He imagined he wouldn't have been able to pull off that same miracle here. A part of him wished this had been Dolph Reach from 2131. At the time, it had been harder on Gavin, he'd been less experienced with dealing with a Maverick General like Reach, and not as well equipped as he was now, but at least he had no confusion about what needed to be done. The walking artillery piece hadn't put up a fight so much as he'd been conducting an evaluation of the Hunter's ability. That was somehow more disturbing than Dolph Reach's rage filled ending. It implied that there was an awful lot the Maverick had been hiding.

Jad and Kol joined their boss a moment later, having beamed in as soon as they heard that there wasn't an EM field to prevent it. They looked disappointed that they had missed the fight. The commander of the 21stt didn't stop looking into the morning sky where the Maverick had departed into for a long time. Around them, Nerima Base still burned, and the JSDF drones seemed to scatter away, dotting the clear sky.

* * *

Hours later, Hunters and military personnel were milling about, recovering what evidence they could, salvaging what survived the rampage, piling aside what didn't. A dozen unlucky paratroopers had died on the airfield when the Maverick tore through the polycraft that sat outside their bunkers preparing for maneuvers later that day. Fifty more humans and at least thirty reploids died trying to put up some form of resistance, but the attack had come so fast and the base had been so unprepared that they died with weapons in hand accomplishing nothing in exchange for their lives. The drone network around the base was in total disarray, some drones flying to bases they were not originally stationed at, others simply missing, presumably destroyed. Nerima Base was one of the larger storage depots for the JSDF, and it had essentially been ransacked in less than twenty minutes before Gavin had arrived. It would be some time before it got back to something resembling order.

"Looks bad, Gavin." Signas had come to Nerima Base personally, leaving behind Arseny and his people in Russia as soon as the call for this mess had gone out. He looked out of place with all of the cold weather gear he'd been given to operate in the Ural mountains. Signas had been much more involved in affairs outside of mere administration ever since the battles of 2131. Gavin thought that he had been working towards some form of penance for his original entrance into the Hunters, or perhaps he was trying to prove to himself that he was a capable replacement for the late Doctor Cain, and a valuable asset in his own unique way to the Hunters.

"You're telling me." The leader of the 21st snorted. "Seems pretty coincidental that we lost our satellites that were keeping this guy isolated just in time for him to escape. Whatever he was looking to accomplish while he was here was done by the time I got here. Tell Douglas I'm sorry about the Land Chaser."

"What about your own condition?" Signas queried.

"I'm fine. My ego's a lil bruised. He was toying with me, sir. Easy. I'd like to say if I had more time, I could have at least gotten a piece of him, but I'd be wrong."

"Did you feel that anything strange occurred to you during the combat?"

"Not anything out of the ordinary outside of getting shot at."

"If you think any of your memory surrounding this incident feels tampered with, report it immediately."

"Of course."

"Five minutes before the attack, an inbound shuttle from the SKYLIGHT recovery project was destroyed in the Old Tokyo area. We are currently trying to get a crew and passenger manifest from them."

"Anything about the satellites being forced to stand down?"

"As far as our records show, Space Command gave the order to stand down themselves. But according to human and reploid personnel at SC, they watched the system do it without external assistance. There is also the issue surrounding the drone network. We are still trying to account for what is and is not missing, but from this base ten heavy transport mechaniloid units are nowhere to be found within Japan."

"You think the Maverick wanted them?" Gavin shook his head. "That shows a lot more forethought than the typical Maverick."

"Or what was in them. This base is also a Ride Armor test bed, the Nerima Proving Grounds are spread out over a section of the ruins of Old Tokyo." Signas pointed to one of the many bunkers that had been blasted wide open. "We are pulling camera data now, but the mechaniloid control systems were obviously compromised in the same way as the systems at SC. We do know that as the attack started, mechaniloids and drones were already in that bunker preparing to move an experimental Ride Armor, ostensibly to a different facility. Then this happened, the weapon is gone, with transports missing along with it. No evidence of external influence, no virus, nothing."

"Like with Guernica and the others at HQ."

"It would appear so." Signas walked away, deep in thought. Gavin found himself feeling more bewildered. The idea that there was an enemy capable of this level of subtlety somehow scared him more than the prospect of another direct confrontation with that Maverick. He wanted a stand up fight, not this shadow war nonsense.

**MHHQ  
New Tokyo, Japan**

Nana hadn't been a navigator for very long, but there was one thing she decided she hated about the job more than anything: the abject helplessness of her position. It was one thing to rattle off information that may have been pertinent to a given task. Even when things were tense, that part was easy. What put her at the edge of her seat every single time was watching the battles play out between Hunter and Maverick. There was a human proverb that said something along the lines of war being days of preparations, hours of waiting, and seconds of pure terror and noise. She believed it more after today.

"HQ, have the pad cleared, I'm transferring back now with Jad and Kol." Gavin's voice came over her comms, sounding somehow less sure of itself than it had when he had first been deployed. The navigator thought about asking him if he were alright, but decided against it.

"We're ready for you, Commander Gavin." Nana paused, and felt that was somehow empty and cold sounding. "You were amazing to watch in action, sir." It had been true. The direct link to his field of vision had been smooth as silk, and the action had been captured in excellent quality. Hollywood made movies that oftentimes emphasized big action and big explosions, but a battle against a proper Maverick could teach some directors a thing or two about action choreography.

"Uh, thanks, Nana. Drop the 'sir', would you?"

"Y-yes, Commander Gavin."

He sighed in response before cutting the link. Nana knew she'd said something wrong, but she didn't understand exactly why it had been wrong. In the short time she'd been navigating members of the 21st on their missions, she gained a great deal of respect for 'her' 21st unit. No matter what sort of call they went out on, she took it very seriously. Lives depended on her ability to convey information rapidly. She was trying to be as informal as the Hunters seemed to be, but she found it almost impossible to be so casual. Nana had never seen any combat, so she looked up to those who had, or underwent the modifications for it. It was hard to not be respectful.

Another incident over and done with. At least she didn't have to fill out the extensive reports that no doubt awaited Gavin when he returned.

* * *

"Man, talk about being fresh off the line." Gavin said as he stepped off the transport pad alongside of Jad and Kol. "Our little bridge bunnies do their job fine and all, but they're wired so tight with protocol they're gonna pop when it really gets hot."

"Sir, you're absolutely right, sir."

"Sir, I'd agree with your statement, sir."

Gavin glared at his two lieutenants. They grinned back.

"Come on, Gav. It's nice to get respect, you should revel in it a little." Jad said. "You've definitely earned it. I don't know another guy who's busted their ass as hard as you over the last couple years. You're gonna get a 'sir' now and again."

"I get it, I get it." Bright light engulfed his black combat armor, and a moment later it was gone, along with most of his heavier equipment. Some folks liked to walk around in combat armor at all times while on duty. Any chance to scale down to the basic gear was something Gavin had learned to appreciate.

"So, what was he like?" Kol pressed. "The base looked like it'd been hit by a tornado and then some."

"The Maverick was good. I didn't even get to lay a finger on him."

"But he didn't get one on you either. Better that Land Chaser than you, I'd say." Kol nodded. "Sorry we couldn't have gotten there to back you up. It'd have been like old times, and that bastard wouldn't have stood a chance."

"The situation was difficult to control. Don't worry about missing the fun this time. I get the feeling we'll get another chance for some action in the near future."

_**Wrath of Olympus**_**  
Yellow Sea, 100 miles east of China**

Hecatonchire's arrival at the mothership had been a time for celebration among The Few that Nike decided to let run its course. There was no need for real concern that the ship would be detected by any surface or sub surface threats at this point, so the crew could make plenty of noise without fear.

She waited on the bridge for him, still connected to all of the equipment that controlled the ship, the equipment that linked her to him during his raid, linked her to the JSDF satellite network. She was staying as hidden in their network as she could manage, while while editing logs of her intrusion and falsifying data as quickly as she could. She also had much to prepare in advance for the next operations. Nike didn't have access to the secret talks being conducted between China and Russia at that same moment, though her intuition told her that things were escalating the way they had hoped.

Thankfully, she was not alone in these efforts. There were other members of the Few who were scattered around the globe. They acted as forward observers, and just as importantly, terminals for Nike to use as proxies, in the event her data manipulation was discovered. The enemy would likely hunt down those isolated reploids, but they agreed that this fate was better than the enemy finding the location of their ship. Nike also monitored her scouts as often as she was able to dedicate time to, ensuring they hadn't been compromised, giving them access to tactical information that she had garnered to assist their ability to remain undetected among docile humans and reploids.

It was exhausting work. She wanted, craved for proper stasis, but she until she was sure she was done-

"You didn't listen to me, did you?" Hecatonchire sounded upset as he strode onto the bridge, no longer in full combat form. Their eyes met for the first time in two months.

"Hi." She said, her voice small, embarrassed that she was connected to so many different pieces of equipment. Embarrassed that she had indeed ignored his requests to take care of her own needs. Without another word, Hecaton reached towards a set of wires connected to her body, and yanked them free.

"Easy on the gear." She whispered.

He continued pulling until finally, her curvaceous form was completely free of the connections. She reached up with both hands towards Hecaton, and he leaned forward to pick her gently up from the command chair. Her arms wrapped around his neck as she hugged him fiercely, and his arms returned the gesture.

"You could at least thank me for the EM satellite hack."

"I am. I'm going to get you to sleep. You what you're doing can make your memory buffers unstable."

"Are you hurt?"

"Not at all. I met an interesting Hunter."

"You always did prefer fighting over subtlety." Nike remarked. "Communications through the net are one thing. I'm...very glad you came back to me."

They were alone, intertwined like this for a long time. Finally, he began to walk stiffly out of the command bridge, his precious cargo still in his arms.

* * *

"Did the materials arrive at the prepared location?" Nike could not ignore her work, even as Hecaton laid her down on a maintenance bed in her quarters.

"I'm sure they will. By the time the JSDF gets a handle on exactly everything you hacked through to assist in my escape, the mechaniloid transports will already be back in Japanese airspace. V will have his precious new toy."

"You don't necessarily like our benefactor. You'll be happy to know I'm with you on that." Nike settled in more comfortably on the bed. "He has his uses, and I'm certain he's thinking the same about us. When it's over, either us or the Hunters will deal with that loose end."

"Now that is something about the plan that I relish the thought of achieving." Hecatonchire sat on a chair sized just for him.

"And SKYLIGHT?"

"I finished my work there." Hecaton frowned at that. "I'm certain I will have upset some people met while I was there. I told myself that I wouldn't get attached, wouldn't make any friends."

"I would me more surprised if you didn't. You're likable, you're friendly in your own way. You're a good man, Hecatonchire." Nike seemed to relax even further, her body almost completely limp as her systems began to power down. "It's been over a month since I have gone into stasis. I can't stop seeing Athena's face. Or the faces of the others. I still hear Apollo speaking." As she spoke, the memories showed on her face, twisting with grief. "That is why I've refused this."

"You can't keep doing that. You're the reason we're all still here." He brushed one of his hands gently across her face as her eyes closed. "We need you to be with us a hundred percent. I need you."

"Please stay." She sounded almost terrified. "I don't want to be alone."

"I will."

Her stasis was still haunted by the would haves, the could haves, the should haves of her recent past. She could still recollect every moment leading to Athena being murdered by Tartarus. She could still recall Apollo's final message to her, long after the incident had supposedly ended. Testament to the authenticity and detail of humanoid reploid design, and the intricacies of her electronic mind, she shivered in her sleep, whispered broken, almost frantic pleas to friends long gone. She would not fall completely silent until two hours had passed, and for the duration of her slumber, Hecatonchire did not move an inch. He watched over her, holding onto her hand as she finally pushed passed the nightmares that people did not believe reploids could have, much less Mavericks.

**Pacific Ocean  
AC-177B Heavy Lift Transport**

As soon as The Captain had given the deployment orders to the rest of Vanguard, they had quickly assembled at Vandenburg Air Force Base, which rested at the edge of Los Angeles. They were joined by 'advisors' from the 1st RSF, partly to act as their cover, but also to take part in the scheduled training exercises, and to continue the tradition of the US and Russian military of learning from the best both sides had to offer. A hundred twenty individuals and the equipment they all needed for either combat or medical purposes were tucked aboard a massive transport aircraft, currently cruising at 20,000 feet at mach 2.4 steady, and among them a mere forty-one of them were Vanguard. Erebus opted to leave behind the support staff and all of the people still in training for MSWAT duty back in LA, though Hypatia had demanded that she be allowed to join the mission to provide the maintenance she did not trust the military to provide to 'her reploids and humans'. She was already assuming a subtle authority over the military model Lifesavers on board.

Despite the wide variance of specifications between reploids in Vanguard, the majority of whom originally intended for more docile lives, and those reploids in the 1st RSF, who were built for war, everyone seemed to get along. It hadn't taken long before the professional, military demeanor of the 'civilian element' on the craft impressed the soldiers, and like clockwork, 'shop talk' started all over the cavernous main bay of the transport. The Captain even had to excuse himself to go to a more private setting with the CO of the 1st because he had become something of a celebrity, being likened to a retired soldier who had come back to the game to help reign in old friends turned rotten.

Ricardo Sato felt completely out of place here, but strove to not let it show. Hilde was beside him, the two busy checking each others gear, and that helped him settle in a bit. The truth was that on the transport there were ten humans aboard, and they were all Vanguard. The military reploids were friendly enough, but it was pretty obvious that compared to them, he was just a potential liability.

"You know, you're quite the rock star just sitting here next to me." She grinned while reassembling her mag pistol again for the second time during the trip. "Before I joined MSWAT, I was in your spot. One reploid girl among a lot of humans in the police force. I like to think we treat you a lot better than I was back then."

"I feel like I'm the team mascot who isn't really supposed to do much else but just be there, so the real shooters go out and win the ball game while I do cartwheels around the field." Ricardo was busy loading the shells his magrifle would hopefully not need to fire into empty magazines, then testing to see if the mags themselves seated well inside his weapon before placing them into pouches on his armored vest.

"Awww." She snapped the final piece of her weapon in place, testing it by pulling the trigger. There was a slight hum before an empty click signaled that the weapon was operating perfectly. "You act like the human race is going out of style."

"Hey, it might be. At least, for this sort of thing. Seems like every once in a while I catch one of those special forces reploids staring in my direction." He ran his hand through his short hair theatrically. "Maybe it's the 'do?"

"Like I said, you're a rock star for the moment. MSWAT is predominantly reploidwork across the US, so they have a right to be surprised to see you, Lars, and the others here." She turned her back to Ricardo and handed him her reactive armor vest. "Fit me."

"Who can argue with compliments like that?" He said, helping the woman into the form fitting vest that went over her hardened ballistic armor. The vest was new, so they needed to make certain it was perfectly suited for her unique shape while her other equipment was on.

"So what do you think of all this?"

"I wanna believe everyone is overreacting to a degree. It is hard to overreact to explosions that big though, going by what the report we were given say." He yawned. "God I hate flying, doesn't help that this is going across the Pacific."

"Beats falling out of a polycraft, I would say."

"Oh yeah. At least there's water twenty thousand that way." Ricardo pointed to the deck. "There. You're done."

"Alright, take a break there, team mascot." She leaned back against him, pressing him against the bulkhead with her weight, looking up at him with her purple eyes while poking him in the ribs with a finger. He looked back down at her

"I serve and obey, milady." He checked his watch, an older style timepiece that he'd gotten as a present from Hilde. They had hours still before they would arrive in Russian airspace. A nap wouldn't be a bad idea.

"Thats the way, smother him before we get there!" Kindle sat down next to the pair with a heavy thud. "So, didja get the news just now?"

"Kinda busy to really be taking notice."

"Some sorta Maverick incident in Japan. The Captain got real quiet when he was watching the released footage. It was the other missing commander class. One of those types." He pointed as discreetly as possible at one of the larger members of the 1st RSF, a four armed colossus who stood while being inspected by his two twin brothers.

"Stand clear, engaging artillery mode." He said to his comrades. With that, he grew almost twice as large, lower arms becoming Gatling cannons, armor plates unveiling micro missile arrays, his shoulders revealing the focusing arrays that Hilde was seeing in the footage she found on the net as soon as the topic of conversation started. What was different about the one on the plane was the twin back mounted large bore cannons that swung over into a ready position. With the ammunition storage pack in between the guns, he truly looked a beast of burden. Variable frames like the ones incorporated in these particular reploids were growing more common, especially in feraloid types. By sacrificing overall toughness to incorporate larger arsenals that could be kept hidden within their expanding structure, it was one way to allow those same reploids to live among civilian populations without constantly looking prepared to level neighborhoods. There was plenty to respect and fear about that sort of capability.

"Clean mode switch." One of the inspecting pair appraised the transformed unit. "For a civvy, that MSWAT doc knew her way around you pretty easy. Alright, my turn. Be gentle, guys."

"Wow." Hilde breathed.

"Size doesn't mean a thing." Ricardo tapped the stock of his magrifle. "Aim for the chip, one click, dead as anyone and anything."

It sounded good to say that. Didn't make the idea of fighting walking artillery pieces more appealing.

**SKYLIGHT Living Area  
December 4th 2:30AM**

"Hey buddy. The bar is closing down. Ya gotta go back to yer quarters."

Solar Falcon knew that the portly human barkeep had been trying to get his attention for some time. He knew that he'd been drinking the day away, ignoring calls to return to his duties out in the debris filled space around SKYLIGHT. He knew he could easily tell his body to break down the alcohol content and restore the optimal energy transfer levels in his artificial blood by doing so. He would not be at the center of a rapidly spinning world. He would not feel as though all of his senses were dulled. He would easily be able to organize his thought into a coherent form, and be able to better react to what had happened to his old friend.

No, he was never really Solar's friend. Hecatonchire had been just another filthy, rotten Maverick in disguise. Worse yet, he was former military, like Solar, and despite everything he had likely been taught, the bastard chose of his own free will to commit himself to being a Maverick. He'd destroyed the very shuttle he had gone down to Earth upon, killing innocent reploids in the process. He'd wounded and killed humans, and while reporters had said over and over that the 'Strangely acting Maverick' had urged people to stand out of his lines of fire, the bottom line was that he was still just a murderer, and Solar had been friends with that...thing.

Solar had been introduced to the Maverick as a repurposed former Mobile Artillery unit from the United States Army. Even as the reporters broadcast more information that was being declassified by the US government, even as more details surrounding Hecatonchire had gone out, Solar didn't want to believe any of it. He spent the hours after the initial reports going through the personel database for SKYLIGHT, trying to find anything in the records that would have indicated Hecatonchire's treachery.

It didn't make any sense. How could Reploid Resources miss all of this in their history checks? How could technicians miss the fact that there had been a fully armed military Maverick working amongst unarmed civilians?He hadn't know him very well, but Hecaton seemed like a decent guy. A hard worker. A little on the private side, but still. The Maverick had earned Solar's trust, earned the trust of everyone he'd worked with in the short time he had.

_God, you had access to the metool programs, you bastard. What else could you have done?_

"I hear you, old man." Falcon finally replied to the barkeep, pulling himself out of the chair slowly, standing on still unsteady feet.

"Do you need help walking out of here?"

"No. No, I'm good." The winged reploid pushed his systems into overdrive now, willing himself to burn through the alcohol. "Sorry to have been difficult."

"Well, you've been up here for a while, you might need a day like this every now and then. Especially after what happened. Your supervisor called here, to let you know he'd overlook this."

"Nice of him." Falcon threw down a wad of wrinkled dollars on the counter before marching out. "I guess I really wasn't cut out for this sort of thing, you know?"

Before he'd ever come to space, he'd been a soldier. A disciplined, well built soldier. He'd been proud of it. It had been an easy existence, to boot. He did what he was told, and he counted himself lucky that he had never been told to do something that contradicted with his own set of beliefs he'd acquired across the length of his existence. Nobody made him think the way he did then or now. He always believed that that what he did was important, not simply for Japan, but for the world as a whole. He never thought once about betraying the humans and reploids he served alongside.

Solar Falcon knew more about Hecatonchire than he would have ever told himself, learned all of it in less than a single day, but he still didn't understand what it was that made him decide to be Maverick. It was such an alien state to even consider. He knew that the world was not a kind and gentle place for the optimistic. There was a lot that could make one lose faith in fellow man and machine.

No matter what Falcon might do, he would likely never really come to understand Hecatonchire and his motives.

What he did know was his own sense of responsibility.

He was the only person up at SKYLIGHT who not only knew the Maverick personally, but he had the best picture on his...its accomplishments in space. Obviously, he couldn't supervise him constantly. There were things that he could have missed, but there was still some things he did know, and it was his responsibility to get that information to people who might be able to make proper use of it.

It was his responsibility to act. He was born for combat. As much as he had tried to deny it, to run away from the nature of his design, as much as he tried to look to the stars, his wings were always meant for the sky below him that very moment. Each step from the bar was steadier than the last, and mirroring that was his resolve. By the time he reached his quarters, he had come to a final decision.

It hadn't taken long to gather what he wanted from belongings, some pictures, an old style leather wallet he almost never used, a collection of old unit insignia. Everything else he dumped quickly into a duffel bag, a small note asking for it to be handed over to the guys in his team to peruse and claim anything they found interesting.

He sent a simple e-mail to his boss. The man always preferred things be kept simple.

**I quit. I'm going to join the Maverick Hunters. Gonna miss the view and everyone here. You included. Sorry about the short notice. -S.F.**

There still remained one other task. Logging on to the personnel network, he made a copy of everything he could find on Hecatonchire into his personal memory banks, notes made by other supervisors and his own, work history, maintenance, everything. The one good thing about the system was that any time a worker touched a piece of SKYLIGHT for maintenance, it was logged automatically. It was mandatory, and Hecaton had just proved why the system was necessary. Falcon doubted that anyone on the restoration project could decipher any information manipulation from the files, but the Hunters could be more intrusive and thorough.

With that done, he logged off from the network for the last time, manually entering himself as 'Terminated for Work Negligence'. The idea of his electronic pink slip signed and dated by himself was amusing to him.

On his heads up display, a small clock reminded him that it was 5:12 AM. The next shuttle cleared to leave for Earth would depart in less than an hour. Rather than using the grips that tracked along the walls to help those unaccustomed to zero gravity navigation, he kicked off the corridor walls to boost himself along. It was too early for any real traffic to slow him down, he practically had the whole way to the shuttle port to himself, and it felt good.

**Jeju-Do, Korea**

The small island south of the Korean mainland had become a staging area for asian refugees in the post-2090's period. As a result, the cities of Jeju and Seogwipo covered much of the small landmass. Despite the highly varied ethnicity of its inhabitants, Jeju-Do was content to be part of the unified Korea. At night, the entire island seemed to light up from the cities, and if it were not for Mount Hallasan, the place might very well appear to be artificial from orbit. At nearly 6400 feet tall, the dormant volcano contrasted heavily against the human habitations it dwarfed. It provided unique and beautiful vistas of the island from every direction, if one chose to scale it. At the center of the mountain lay a crater lake that had grown larger over the decades. Few people visited the place these days, and those that did enjoyed the idyllic silence it offered, a rare sense of isolation that no other part of the island could offer any longer.

Beneath the waters of the central crater lake, a familiar, malignant cancer seethed and bided its time.

Time was something a smart Maverick had much of, and Sigma, the former Prime Hunter, now Prime Maverick, had made the most of his time, leading Uprising after Uprising. In the pauses between each uprising, Sigma had sought to take advantage of every resource he could get his hands on, to exploit every opening he could find. He'd been proud of it. He'd bragged to Mega Man X and Zero Omega about his work. How they'd never find all of his hidden bases, his weapon caches, his many clone bodies that all awaited their master. How his Maverick Generals would always be a constant dagger at their throats.

And yet, in 2131, all of that seemed to finally come to an end. Nobody wanted to believe it at first, but as time passed, Hunters and Humans alike had come to accept the real possibility that the greatest threat to the world might have finally passed.

This lake had been the site of one of those small weapon cache's. The facility placed at its depths could not build Mavericks or convert any reploids unlucky to be captured by Sigma's forces. Its purpose had only been to store weapons the Maverick King may have required in times of duress, or for his followers, should any survive the Hunters that would undoubtedly come for their heads, and it was serving that purpose on this day. If the waters of the lake were clearer, one might be able to make out the small light that emanated from a porthole of the bunker. Within the bunker stood a reploid clad in green and brown armor, his face hidden by his helmet, giving him an unreadable, yet threatening appearance. A scourge that had once promised retribution at any cost.

"Hecatonchire. I must say, your work was simply amazing to watch. For a simple soldier, you're a better Maverick than I could have ever hoped possible from anyone not driven by the Virus."

"I see you've gotten your gift, V."

"It's wonderful. The Self Defense Force makes such offensive beasts to serve that purpose. It's a marvelous new weapon. I can't wait to try it out."

"Much as I would expect from you."

"How's your china doll? Sleeping?"

"She has to, if we're to succeed, she needs to be in the best condition possible."

"I would say 'no offense', but I mean it when I say she's slowing down my time table."

"Which is to follow ours." Hecatonchire's voice dripped with menace.

"And I am. No need to threaten me so brazenly, even if it's all hot air in the end." V chuckled. "Obviously, you know who we both serve now, and you know who it is that gave you what you need for your little 'demonstration'. If there is anyone who should remember their place, it's you."

"Just be ready in two days. End of communications."

V sat down next to his newly constructed Ride Armor, the Cerberus. It bore a somewhat nostalgic shape, reminding him of June 4th, 2118. It was a monster of a suit. It suited him perfectly, and for the first time since he'd made contact with Nike and Hecatonchire, the Maverick was happy that reploids so absorbed by their loyalty to the human species existed, and were willing to go to such lengths to correct them by force, if necessary.

Sigma would have enjoyed this game.


	5. Phase 3: Forging

**Phase Three : Forging**

**Camp Rus, Ural Mountains****  
December 5th 2133, 9:00 AM Local**

True to their reputation, the Spetznaz started the day extremely early. This of course wasn't a problem for reploids. For humans like Ricardo and Lars, this was not the case, and they'd been encouraged (in Ricardo's case, forced) to sleep on the flight to Russia if at all possible. They had to be ready for the very special sense of urgency that the Spetznaz possessed by the time they arrived. At 4:30AM local time, almost on autopilot, the Russians were awake, thirty minutes earlier than usual so they could begin bringing all of the reploids who had gone into stasis back online for early checks by Hypatia and reploid physicians from the -former- Maverick Hunter branch in Moscow. By 5:00AM, gear was already issued to the new human arrivals from Vanguard, and they joined the Spetznaz troopers in a brisk run down a mile of cleared road, past bunkers that stored polycraft and ride armors from the elements, to the mobile command center for a briefing on what was to occur over the next week. Within an hour, they had piled out of Command and onto a series of transports that were to take the whole cadre to the site of the processing facility. The speed and precision shown by the 8th OSN was noteworthy, but there was a sense that they wanted to speed things up even further. Four days prior, two hundred and four of their number had died, and they had yet to understand why it had happened.

They were like pit bulls, straining against the leashes of their masters, waiting for them to be given a target to strike against, and they did not hide this fact. For being wholly human, with no special enhancements to speak of, as a unit they definitely earned the respect of their American reploid and human counterparts, and perhaps a certain amount of fear.

"How long is the initial exercise supposed to last? I thought that they were only touring the disaster area and coming back for another day to acclimate."

"They will return here within six days. A prefabricated site has been set up where our soldiers and your soldiers will perform the exercise, Miss Hypatia." The young man that had responded could be described as recruiting poster material for the Russian armed forces. His blond hair was cropped very short, and his blue eyes stared straight ahead, as though her was trying to avoid looking at Hypatia. He was very much a hawk told to stay his claws from the hunt, and his body language conveyed the frustration easily enough. The name patch on his blue tiger stripe pattern winter fatigues read 'Morozoy, O.'

"I see." The medical reploid pressed her fingers to the glass windows that gave her an overlook of the entire base. "I've never been outside of the United States before. I did not expect it to be under these circumstances. I assume you have been ordered to keep watch over me, not exactly the sort of thing you signed up for."

"Your Russian is perfect, if I am allowed to say so. You are correct, ma'am, I would very much like to be participating in the exercise." He did not relax, but his face softened. "I have friends who died at the facility. I would like to know why, and how it can be stopped in the future."

"It isn't hard for a reploid to learn Russian these days, but I appreciate the compliment." Hypatia smiled. "I suppose you're going to follow me until ordered otherwise?"

"Yes ma'am. My orders are specific."

"You can probably keep watch on me while sitting down." She suggested, pointing towards a seat in the medical ward. He shook his head curtly.

"It would be incorrect."

_A real head case, this one, _Hypatia thought to herself. _He's almost like a machine, but I know better. They don't let reploids into units like this here in Russia._ She resolved to try another way to get the kid to relax.

"Why did you join the military?"

"My father was former _Sluzhba Vneshney Razvedki_, a foreign intelligence officer, he wanted me to follow in his footsteps." His own smile took on a controlled, vicious quality. "I thought that for my eighteenth birthday, I would surprise him. It is good work, and better than simply studying for a degree for some other job I would doubtlessly fall asleep doing. When I was a child, I suppose I was like any other boy. I played war with my toy soldiers. Doing the real thing is much more exciting. But it is also important. Someone has to stand ready against the likes that would kill innocents."

Hypatia could understand that. She couldn't be a fighter, it just wasn't in the cards when they designed her body, but she knew what it felt like to have the drive to serve something greater than the self, for the benefit of many.

"It's not an easy life, I imagine." Hypatia said, as she looked back outside. The weather was overcast, but the air was still, and she could make out every detail of the facility from her vantage point. Maintenance workers had opened up the bunkers, and she could see into them, see them working on the various polycraft and the ride armors that made up a part of Camp Rus' offensive and defensive capability. Elsewhere, she could see a small platoon of soldiers in formation, in the Spetznaz trademark t-shirts and the same blue and white camouflage pattern pants and boots that Morozoy O. wore, running and singing cadence in a mixture of english and russian. They sounded simply thrilled to be running. Even Hypatia, a reploid, didn't want to be outside without some form of extra protection. They were either crazy or dedicated, like the man behind her.

This was the place that had been home to the dead soldiers at the Kaminov facility. This young man could have been there, and all of the training that made him handsome and tough wouldn't have meant a thing. He'd have been blown to bloody rags, or perhaps atomized by the attacking reploids buster fire, cut down by their beam sabers, or perhaps killed with a single blow to the head by their fists or feet.

"It is not easy, but I did not sign up for 'easy'." Morozoy had switched to english, accented thickly, but clear enough that it did not seem awkward for him to use. It sounded like he was using this time with an American to practice. He finally broke from his 'parade rest' stance in the corner of the room, loosening up enough to actually walk over to the window next to Hypatia. "Look at them, ma'am." He pointed to the runners. "Even in a world with creations as intricate as your own, as powerful as those of your 1st RSF, we train so that we can stand alongside and against them. It is not easy, ma'am. But we are proud of what we do, and we are good at it."

"I'm not an officer, you can drop the ma'am stuff."

"Of course, of course. Just do not say that around my Colonel. 'We must be gracious and respectful hosts to these Americans!' His orders. Of course he also said 'Show these Americans no mercy once the exercise begins!' I imagine that is what I am missing out on." Hypatia laughed at that.

"Alright, since we are apparently stuck with each other, I'm going to make some coffee at the mess hall." The reploid waved for the man to follow, and he did so somewhat mechanically, as though he were gauging the distance between himself and her. _Funny. They make us to be more like them, and they train themselves to be more like us._

"What makes a reploid like you choose to serve as a doctor? You do not look like any Lifesaver I have become acquainted with."

"Would you believe I was at one time a poseable mannequin for a collector?"

"I can see that there was a lot of care that went in to your design...but that seems degrading. I see many reploids like you back in Moscow when I go home to see the wife-"

"Wife?!"

"Life is short, yes?" The sergeant shrugged. "As I was saying, I see many reploids like you back in Moscow, and I do not understand why they would be content to do that sort of thing at a clothing store."

"Yeah, neither did the rich guy." Hypatia looked around the corridor for a sign that would point her in the right direction. "He asked me 'Hypatia, are you happy here? Be honest.' So I was. The next day, he got me set up in an apartment of my choice, and he thanked me for the year I spent under his care. He also funded my reploid and human physician doctorates. I figured I was born with these hands the way they are, and there was no way I could take the modifications needed for combat, but I still wanted to help in some way. I guess it was my way of thanking the old man for actually seeing that I at least deserved a choice. You humans aren't all bad, to be honest."

"And not all reploids are terrorists. You want to go left, for the elevator."

"Right, right."

"Excuse me ma'am, I said-"

"I know!"

**Site Alfa, 13 miles north-east of Camp Rus**

The Russians hadn't been kidding when they'd said they wanted to recreate conditions at the energen facility. Site Alfa was a to-scale mock up of its whole surface before a massive crater had been blown wide open at the center. The training field existed months before the energen storage had been destroyed, most likely to keep the 8th OSN sharp for its duties, to test new tactics, simulate attacks, defenses, and the like. There was even a working barracks for the humans, a maintenance bay for reploids, and a mess hall here as well. The 1st RSF and the Vanguard contingent joined their Spetsnaz counterparts at the center of the training grounds after having toured it. Erebus himself took a great interest in the nature of the reconstruction, and was already comparing it to the official blueprints of the Kaminov facility. The only things that couldn't be recreated properly were the weather, and the nearly perfect overwatch friendly forces had over the real thing around its perimeter. As of yet, modern technology did not permit the movement of mountains to fit their purposes.

"For the next six nights, select members of the 8th OSN will are assigned to guard sweeps of this training site. We will be treating this as if it were the real thing." Announced Colonel Sasha Fyodor, the commanding officer for the 8th, a hard looking man with sharp features, clean shaven and short haired much like the entirety of his unit. "The objective is to take what we have learned from the incident, and put it into practical use against a similar opponent. It's short notice, but anything gleaned from the exercise will be useful. Over the course of the exercise, our friends in the 1st RSF will conduct a single raid with the intent to destroy this facility, and the action will be monitored with standard training equipment and by Russian and American officers. Once the attack ends in success or failure, the exercise will be considered ended, and we will return to Camp Rus for immediate analysis and debriefing. We will be using the Simulation Harnesses for this exercise." The Colonel paused a moment.

Nobody openly displayed their contempt for the things, but a SimHarness was an additional twenty pounds of gear that human soldier could wear to help 'simulate injuries that disabled limbs, or force the human soldier to fall to the ground to simulate casualties that needed to be cleared'. So the manual texts would say. Similar systems were used by armed forces around the world, and while they did do their jobs, it was still more equipment on top of everything else a soldier was expected to keep on their person. Nobody liked to carry more stuff if they didn't have to normally.

"The basic scenario is as follows. The 'Reploid' team will choose two teams of five that will infiltrate the facility and set magnetic mines to key structures on the surface. This is a larger force than what we can confirm attacked the energen storage, to compensate, we have more available men at Site Alfa that were at the storage that night. The 'Human' team will patrol these targets and attempt to prevent infiltration and destruction. Further details can be found on documentation at your respective planning sites."

_This would be a lot nicer if we had time to set up several weeks of training. It couldn't hurt my folks to glean what they can from real Spec Ops types like these._ Erebus was no stranger to these sorts of drills. His own time in the military was thousands of hours of running such scenarios, any time that he hadn't been deployed was spent like this. Vanguard would likely not be involved with guard duties like this in the future, but it was always important to see things from the perspective of 'the other guy'. More importantly, it was good for his reploids to spend time with an actual, active special forces team, and learn from them. Data downloads never would beat practical application.

Erebus felt some unease about being here, mostly because the 1st RSF were practically mirror images of his own former unit. He saw the faces of old friends he'd ordered the deaths of in every single reploid they had fielded here. It only grew more frustrating to him when the news of the attack in Japan had broke out. To her credit, the commander of the unit had noticed it, and was angered by it just the same. She was designated 'One', but went by the name 'Lenneth'. She was a slightly taller version of Nike, identical physically in every other way, but not designed for the same purposes as the Maverick.

Lenneth had expressed her own concerns in regards to recent events with the 2nd RSF during the trip to Russia. She felt that it put her and everyone else under her command on notice. That was reploid life in the military. Individuality wasn't something designers went for when creating these sorts of reploids. Mass produced models were easier to maintain, and they could transplant parts if necessary between machines if the need arose. Because of this, it would be impossible for her to play down the fact that she and her command looked exactly like feared Mavericks. Despite that, her dossier was exemplary. The 1st RSF had never lost a single man in combat, and she herself would have likely been put up for a medal of honor or some other fanciful piece of tin, if reploids were allowed it. There were at least three separate instances where she herself went into combat to rescue people under her command, and all that got her were positive evaluations during maintenance cycles, and a notation on her psych profile that she was 'self sacrificing'.

It said a lot about Erebus that he valued some form of recognition for his feats these days. When he served the US Army, such thoughts hadn't occurred to him. He wondered how humans dealt with praise and criticism in the military, especially in units like Spetznaz. The exercise was essentially a check on their viability. He'd read up on human psychology, but casual observation was different from actually being human.

_This whole thing is a bit ridiculous. Some suit up high thinks the 8th OSN somehow neglected their duty, pretty damned disrespectful of them. Bet they are acting like it was 'only five reploids'. I guess we'll have to show them that if five were that much of a nightmare, ten will cost them weeks and weeks of sleep. I have to wonder if they want to use this whole thing as proof that the Chinese were really behind the attack or if this is some sort of check on their own forces._

"I will leave the rotation of guards and area assignments to the platoon leaders. Acting commander of the guard will be Captain Ilya. I will be leading our own team of observers, Captain Erebus and Lieutenant General Lenneth will be leading the American observers. The exercise begins officially in two hours. Good luck to you all." With that, the Colonel smiled. "No offense to our good metal Yankee friends, but do not play nice with them, comrades. I have all of the faith in the world that you will perform your duty here with the same pride and precision that you always have shown. Godspeed."

_He knows it too. There are a few suits here today, and that last bit was definitely directed at them. Good actor, not eyeballing them while he said that, but not subtle whatsoever. I'd be pissed off too in his position._ Erebus smirked.

"Captain Erebus, shall we accompany the good Colonel to Observation?" Lenneth did not have the same imposing stature that General Apollo did, but the way she carried herself was not preprogrammed in the slightest. She had a quiet dignity and authority that matched the late Apollo's, if not exceeded. She'd described herself on the transport as feeling the weight of responsibility that her current existing condition was throwing down upon her, and she felt forced to perform far above any other standards others could set for her, if only to validate her continued function. Lenneth was obviously quite concerned with the way she and her people were perceived by the world and the government in the wake of the Rebellion.

"Lead the way, General."

"I've already composed a list of several candidates for the mission." She transmitted the roster into his field of vision. It was quite the 'A-Team', Lenneth wasn't fooling around. They were all reploids who had seen some form of action during the brew ups across Africa, much like Erebus had in those turbulent years, generally close combat experts. She hadn't fielded any of the artillery types for consideration, which was more to keep the scenario authentic to the reality of what had happened than anything else. She had only a small fraction of her command here in Russia, but what she did bring would have probably been overkill for a real facility of this size.

"I've got a couple names to put forward myself."

"I'm obligated to listen, considering that if they are people you selected, they certainly possess quality."

"I think you're stroking my old ego a bit much here."

"I'm not entirely unaware of your purposes for being here, Captain. Rather, I'm glad you're doing this. I'll 'keep things on the down-low', of course." She smiled for probably the first time in weeks, amused at the saying.

"I appreciate it. It's good to be working with you. I hadn't realized how much I missed a proper commander giving me orders. I've gotten a bit relaxed over the years."

"I'm not one to order a legend around. I just respect your accomplishments and your personal judgment. You've done things even I am uncertain I would have the fortitude to carry out."

"I did what needed to be done. That's all part of the game, General." They silenced their conversation as the Colonel approached.

"We should try to get to the observatory before my superiors do. Follow me."

"You seem a bit stressed." Erebus observed as they walked through the light snow towards a building on the perimeter of the exercise area.

"It has been a week of bullshit, if you can imagine. Somebody thinks my men are able to naturally pick out thermal optical cloak fields with a hundred percent accuracy, in low visibility conditions, at night. There are a lot of upset politicians and higher ranking officers engaged in little quarrels over this missing capability we were expected to have."

"Well, we can't all be reploids." Lenneth said respectfully in russian. "What do you think will be the outcome of this?"

"Frankly, we are going to lose. Not that I would let my men hear me say that. I suspect they know it well enough. The odds are against them in every conceivable way. Even with ride armor, the peak of human physical conditioning, and all of the technology we use to enhanced our own senses, we are, in the end, human."

"Which surprises me." Erebus said. "You have reploids in the regular army, but not in special units like yours?"

"If you can convince people that some reploids, at the least, could be valued additions to our own special forces, that would be a desirable outcome. I do not want to sound like I doubt the abilities of my people, but by God. FIVE reploids did all of that. Having some to assist and enhance the capabilities of well trained men would be the furthest thing from a burden I can imagine. We might have not have so many empty beds to fill if we had some reploids working in tandem with us on that night." The trio arrived at an entrance to the observatory, and the Colonel quickly swiped a key card through a reader. Soundlessly, the door slid open, and he invited the two reploids to follow him inside. "I am sure it is the same everywhere. Reploids are not trustworthy, so they say. It is even safe to assume that reploids of your caliber are responsible for this mess, which does not make things any better for your case here. I imagine a part of it is money. I imagine the other part of it is just fear."

"We'll try to live up to the expectations of all." Lenneth said. "The 1st RSF has never held back in training before."

"Put the fear of God into them." Colonel Fyodor sounded particularly vicious at that. "The sooner this is over with, the better. There are many other things to worry about."

"You seem to be fairly big on the idea of reploids joining your Spetznaz." Erebus decided he liked this Colonel Fyodor.

"I like stacking the deck in our favor. Nobody stopped using guns because they could kill friend and foe alike." The trio had arrived at a small elevator, where another reploid seemed to be waiting for them there. "Good morning, Commander Arseny."

Erebus blinked. He was of a similar design to Signas, somewhat bulkier due to the cold weather enhancements he'd taken on, mostly white in color, with red markings here and there, a distinct red racing stripe down the center of his chestplate. He was definitely a standard GDC design, meaning his coloring made tactically little sense for field work, but that Arseny stood where he was said enough for how he'd handled that factory included disadvantage.

"Good morning, Colonel Fyodor. I assume these are my American counterparts, General Lenneth and Captain Erebus." He snapped off a perfect salute. "We seem to have beaten the politicians here, though we should not be surprised, yes?"

**Jeju-Do, Korea**

Despite the GDC's control over the various warp networks that reploids used to travel rapidly around the globe, they could not restrict the use of warping on an individual level, which meant that a Maverick who wasn't interested in suicide by Hunter could use it to escape, and if they were skilled, they could remain undetected. EM fields, either generated by ground based systems, or by networks of geosynchronous satellites could block warp attempts, certain death to anyone in mid warp, but as had been proven recently, those measures were not immune to circumvention.

The island of Jeju-Do had very little in the way of interest directed towards it by GDC intelligence, and as such it was a perfect place for one half of the upcoming event to sortie from.

The reploid who lead the pair known as Gray Team had arrived in the city of Seogwipo alone and as far as he'd been able to tell, undetected. Scattered across the island were his three compatriots. He was stripped of his standard issue armor before coming here, and could pass easily enough for a human tourist with his current attire. As he walked through a market filled with hundreds of people shouting over eachother, hawking their wares to thousands of shoppers milling about, he found himself enjoying his current state of anonymity. If anyone asked, his name was Adam Boler, and he was from Sacramento, California, traveling around the world to satisfy a personal sense of curiosity, but no one seemed to feel the need to converse with him. Fine with him.

He enjoyed being lost in a crowd. It let him observe everything directly without interruption.

Adam had never spent much of his down time during his military years interacting with civilian populations. He'd never seen the need to, always feeling that the differences between himself and the human race would only cause more problems, should he venture off base alone, or even with the more out going members of the 2nd RSF. It felt strange, that he felt more 'free' as a Maverick hiding from a global entity with a massive amount of resources available to it, while as a solid citizen he had felt more at ease restrained by the cage that consisted of his duties and his station as a military reploid.

He checked his watch. It was time to get moving. It would take Adam and his three brothers in arms the rest of today and all tomorrow to prepare for the next mission. The facility within the Mount Hallasan crater lake awaited, and once the team had assembled with their special contact, Nike would brief them all.

* * *

It had been much easier than he'd expected to get to the facility. Adam had kept waiting for an ambush to occur as he scaled the mountain paths that lead to his destination, as the Korean military did have a presence on the island, but between his judicious use of thermal optical camouflage, any automated security systems he'd been able to spot had not detected him, and the scattered few human guards on several of the paths hadn't so much as raised an eyebrow in suspicion of his presence. He'd slipped into the water quietly, amazed at how smoothly things had proceeded. As far as the world was concerned, he simply didn't exist. Like many reploids of the 1st RSF, he had been reinforced to handle deep submersion in water. He didn't have to like it, but he could handle two thousand feet for several hours before the strain grew too much for his frame. Fortunately, walking on the lake floor towards his final destination did not require that.

He'd been the last of the four to arrive, which he counted as a blessing. Trying to work the airlock from the outside with such limited available light and dealing with the overall weight of his body in water did not sound like an exciting prospect.

"A little late, 'Adam'?"

"Plenty of time to spare, 'Bernard'."

The four shared a laugh. It was an interesting naming scheme that Nike had chosen for them to assume on this mission: Adam Boler, Bernard Church, Carel Dietrich, Daniel Egan. Grays One and Two, Oxides One and Two respectively.

"My God. If Sigma were still something we all cared enough about to still fear these days, he'd be pissed at you assholes dragging yer feet. Now that the four of you are here, I suggest you move into the armory. Your enhancements are waiting." The voice belonged to the Maverick who went by the name 'V', and he spoke with a raspy, odd lilt.

"Name's Vile. I'm famous, don't you know? Very nice to meet you all!"

Vile had strayed little from his original design, in terms of appearance he'd changed his color scheme over time and little else, a sickly green with orange markings across his frame. It was likely that the last time anyone had seen him without his face concealed by his helmet was before he had ever been activated as a Hunter. It was hard to believe he'd once been in the position to hunt down monsters such as what he'd become, his was a design built for something closer to full scale war. He struck an intimidating silhouette in the dim lighting that lead to the armory, a faint series of metallic clanks echoing in the air as Vile rapped his fingers against the barrel of his shoulder cannon.

"I've got to say, that ride armor? It's a real piece of work. I didn't think you people would deign to help a Maverick like me. By the way guys, love the stoic, special ops badass act you're putting up. Nobody asking how I'm still alive, nobody flinching. You guys are _amazing._" Vile strode over to Adam, acting as though he was inspecting him. "Look at what we have here. Top. Quality. Synthskin." Vile pinched one of Adam's arms, chuckling as he did so. "Weren't you lucky? Y'see, when I was born- There's a funny word, when I was activated, they hadn't really done a lot of work into making reploids 'blend in' physically with humans. 'Why bother?' That's what they said. We all know it. They wanted to have some sort of distinction between _us_ and _them_, right? Look. At. _You! _No funny lookin' legs, you're a real supermodel for a human type, they let you have interchangeable ones? Does yer armor warp in with your 'usuals'? Dash functionality? Thrust vectoring? Sound suppression for your busters? Beam saber recharge ports? Wow. Wow wow wow. God BLESS America, right? Am I right? They made you good. They made you real good." Though his mask concealed everything, one could hear the grin forcing its way to his face. "I'm jealous."

Carel and Daniel exchanged a subtle glance.

"Well, come on, gotta get your upgrades done. The sooner the better! I've been waiting years for all of this, and I'm getting a little...impatient." Vile spun away, acting uninterested in his new allies once more. "Well, you know what they say, revenge, cold dish, the best." He walked a few paces before realizing the four had yet to follow. "Well, come on now, your china doll is waiting to brief you. Heh...china doll..."

Adam bristled at the insult to his commander, but remained silent. He brushed at the part of his arm Vile had touched. His self diagnostics kicked in, detecting no trace of viral infection of any kind. Vile didn't seem like the type to resort to something underhanded as that, but the soldier hadn't survived as long as he had without a healthy dose of caution that balanced out all of the calculated risk-taking he did. Vile was a warrior. A crazed one, but a warrior nonetheless. His known history, according to Adam's own data, showed that Vile took great pleasure in winning a good fight by any means. As far as anyone knew, he was to have died during Sigma's First, but death for reploids was never certain in this world. If Sigma had wanted him back, it would be so.

"I bet you're all wondering why I'm here while there's no Sigma."

"The thought had occurred to me at least." Adam ran another diagnostic. Nothing irregular detected.

"Sigma's...around. You didn't think he was gone, did you? That bastard'll never die. Correction. He dies an awful lot. But he always, always comes back. Places like these make it happen, but not this one, not today. I've borrowed it."

"Don't you think the master would be a little upset by his pet dog straining at the leash?" Adam quipped.

"Ha. Ha. Oh, you are a real comedian."

In the next moment, Adam found himself pinned against the steel bulkhead so hard that it had buckled from the force of the impact, one of Vile's hands wrapped firmly around his neck. Without his combat systems enabled, he was technically defenseless, and he couldn't risk warping in his gear without it getting fused to the bulkhead, or worse yet, compromising the facility's structural integrity by blasting a huge hole in its side. He heard his brothers flash into their own armor in an instant, not having the same difficulties as he was, busters coming online and charging, aimed at crazed Maverick. In response to that, Vile's shoulder cannon twisted to aim in their general direction, while his right hand pointed its fingers at them, the tips opening up and revealing the barrels to a set of five 'mini-busters'.

"Let's not be hasty, kids. You can't do shit without me, understand? I'm the big bad here, I'm the final fucking boss, as far as you're all concerned. You get that? Who got you your boat? Who arranged for this facility to provide additional armaments? Who is going to let you four live?"

Slowly, he released Adam, and stood back to allow him a chance pull himself free of the wall. The others lowered their weapons slightly, still ready for a brawl.

"I was out of line. I'm sorry." Adam said quietly.

"Well now, no reason we can't all be friends." Vile said happily before continuing down the corridor to the armory.

_That bastard! We shoulda taken him, we could have-_ Bernard started to shout over their internal comms.

_No. Our orders before coming here were to work with 'V', so long as it forwards our cause._ Adam replied tonelessly. _He has a point. Without the resources Sigma made available to his own cause being funneled to us, we'd..._ He didn't want to finish. Outwardly, he showed no immediate distress, he brushed himself off, popped the collar to his overshirt, and walked onward.

His mind raged. Even in exile from his home country, even on the run as a Maverick, he'd never felt so immediately helpless, never felt as though to save his life he'd have to act so subservient to another. It was one thing to follow orders from Nike. That was something he would do gladly. To put up with Vile, that tested him.

"You okay? Nothing broken?" Carel asked.

"It's under control." Adam whispered.

**Site Alfa**

With the initial briefings completed, the reploids were all directed back to transports that would take them to another temporary camp that could not be seen from any of the watchtowers, where they could plan for and infiltrate Site Alfa from on foot, in order to simulate the guessed approach of the terrorists earlier in the month.

Hilde remained with Ricardo, intending to be the last to board a transport. She

"Yer gonna get in trouble."

"I might not see you for six days. You really think I'll get picked to take this place on?" Hilde sounded somewhat miffed. "I've busted my ass to tune this body of mine into shape so I can do what we have been doing for a while, but I'm not a reploid who was designed for combat."

"The Captain did pick you for MSWAT, and we're all a part of his pet project. Where's that confident girl that almost got picked up for duty at MHHQ?"

"She's still here. She's just trying to be realistic."

"Well then, see you before this is all over." Ricarco slapped her on the back. "Promise I will ruin your day, Miss Terrorist."

"You are so dead, honey." With that, she pulled him in close, lifting him up with one arm so she wouldn't have to lean forward, and kissed him firmly on the mouth, and held him there until a she heard the whistles from a few of the onlookers.

He had noticed she never closed her eyes when they kissed. He'd had other girlfriends in the past, and they all seemed to do that. She didn't. She locked onto his brown orbs with her own purple ones. She wanted to see his reactions more than anything. She was a real marvel. With some reploids, you could tell that they were just optical sensors, shaped more stylistically than anything. With Hilde, she'd pass for a human, even up this close. Reploids like her could take their pick of life's pleasures, and she'd settled for a hard life and for a human like him.

They parted, and she set him back down gently, unblinking as she held his gaze. She smiled winsomely. "See you soon." She ran towards the nearest transport, a dark blue and black silhouette against the white snow.

"Bye." He managed. He turned and faced down the grins of the Spetznaz troopers, some of whom were clapping. "Enjoy the show?" He called out. He got a couple cheers in response.

* * *

As Hilde climbed aboard the transport, Kindle was the one to take her hand and pull her inside. "You're an exhibitionist." He said as they strapped in for lift off.

"Jealous?"

"I gave up on that a week after you joined MSWAT, those years ago. You've changed since September."

"It's nice want someone and to be wanted in return." With a hand, she shielded her optics from the sun reflecting off of the white land beneath them as the polycraft lifted off. "From the south east looks good."

"What?" Kindle was being distracted by his seat straps, having difficulty fastening one of them due to his size. Across from him, one of the artillery reploids looked to where Hilde was referring.

"What do you make of it?" He leaned in as best he could to listen to Hilde.

"It's the only place we can get elevation on Site Alfa. It's pretty flat terrain all around it otherwise."

"It's a long run from our own staging area to there. Good eyes though, think we can make use of it?"

Hilde read the name on the massive reploid's chest: Heimdallr.

"It depends, big guy. They might be expecting it."

Planning began in earnest. Every reploid knew they may not have been among the chosen ten, but not a single one wanted the exercise to end with their side the losers.

* * *

_When I was military, they had rules against that sort of thing. Kids these days._ Erebus thought, having seen the kiss from Observation.

"That's Hilde?" Lenneth asked, sounding incredulous. "She looks much more... severe in the file you sent me."

"She's had some good things happen to her recently. Don't let that little act discount her."

"I'm looking at her records. I suppose I should look past her official work history being that of a waitress as well?"

"Trust me, General. She lead a team alongside Zero Omega into the Arcology against the 2nd RSF. It's true that any reploid can be programmed to take advantage of a skillset, but to adapt on the fly and make use of those skills under duress, that's something else altogether. I'll defend that particular recommendation vigorously."

"Then I will trust it." Lenneth's golden eyes shone with the various files she was cycling through. "I think we have our ten. Five of yours, five of mine."

"I am looking forward to witnessing this. I do not see very many American hunter level reploids in action." Arseny grunted. "Good time to take inventory on my own strengths and deficiencies, this is."

Erebus nodded in agreement. He was anxious to get this over and done with. He'd received his first information dump from the various US intelligence agencies that were pertinent to recent events and his own interests, none of it that lead to the whereabouts of Nike or Hecatonchire. A brief on the Ride Armor theft at Old Tokyo was among the files. As he predicted, the navigational databases of all the hacked drones that returned to their respective Japanese bases had been wiped clean, so there was no way to know exactly where the Ride Armor had been taken, or where any of the drones had traveled to. With the Japanese surveillance network compromised during the attack, they couldn't have even tracked them by their GPS transponders.

_Factoring in the theft, Nike and Hecaton have to be somewhere relatively close to Japan. That's only thousands and thousands of miles of land and sea to cover._

**Jeju-Do**

The 'upgrades' were extensive in nature, and as none of the four soldiers trusted Vile any farther than they could throw him, to ensure safety they decided to complete the process one man at a time. Adam volunteered to go first, and he had laid down upon the maintenance bed with a stoic expression while the others fanned out around the armory, keeping a close watch on Vile and the machine arms that fell upon their leader.

His arms and legs had been removed, his chest plating sliced open with surgical precision, portions of the frame simply removed to make room for expansion, additional armor, ammunition storage. His new limbs were notably larger and far more machine like in appearance. Segmented armor plating was grafted onto places not covered by his new chest plating, gauntlets or heavy boots. Adam would never walk among humans nearly undetectable again, but for what was to come, he would not need to. Across his vision, a series of windows indicated that his control systems recognized the new parts and weapons he'd been given, and that they were functioning properly. He ran yet another scan of his programming, looking for any potentially subversive code that had slipped in during the process, and still found nothing.

The arms lifted him from the bed, and he was turned over, another set of arms slicing into his back and removing the old connections for a beam saber charge pack, replacing them with something heavier duty. Over his right shoulder, he could see mounting rack being welded into place, a large bore cannon being fitted to it.

"You're making us like you."

"Nothin' wrong with having some real firepower. You're gonna need it." Vile snapped. "You'll find out soon enough."

The arms flipped Adam back over and set him down gently. They ran a series of spot checks over his form before withdrawing back into their housing on the ceiling. His chest thrummed as his internal reactor readjusted it's output to meet the needs of the modified body. He sat up awkwardly, unaccustomed to the new weight his limbs possessed.

"Sergeant?" Bernard asked, walking towards the enhanced soldier tentatively.

"I'm fine...it's a little hard to move still, but I can manage."

"According to this, you're actually lucky." Vile snickered. "Looks like you got plugged in the chest with a magpistol in that old body of yours, I've seen that kind of damage before. Without these upgrades and modifications, your reactor housing might have eventually ruptured from the stress fractures in the old chest frame. You're clean, by the way. I wouldn't want to waste a valuable resource like you by turning you into one of those worthless virus addled drones. You can rest assured that everything you're about to do is of your own free will." That moment, a large screen in the armory flashed into life, Nike's solemn expression filling the screen. Her four subordinates came to attention, Adam struggling slightly to maintain balance.

"I see the upgrades have begun. I am sorry to put you four through this. You are not alone in this endeavor. Another team is facing the same trial in the United States as I speak."

"Commander Nike." Vile's voice had changed somewhat. It was filled with a begrudging respect that he'd refused to show to the four. "We're still on schedule. The Cerberus Ride Armor is fully functional, and I've made the necessary arrangements for our insertion into New Tokyo." She nodded in reply to his report, and focused her attentions to her men.

"On December 1st, you took down an important resource facility guarded by some of the finest the human species has to offer. I ask even more of you now."

The screen replaced her image with that of a file photo of MHHQ, New Tokyo.

"This facility is home to some of the most dangerous enemies to the plan. Your orders are to engage and destroy as much of their materiel and manpower resources as possible, and to access their physical isolated database servers to determine how much, if anything, they have been able to piece together on our activities. A similar strike will occur at the New York HQ simultaneously. While this is happening, we will be striking another key objective within China. The goal is to weaken the Maverick Hunters to the point where they will no longer even be marginally effective against the plan, and to prevent them from being able to assist the opposition in the future. In addition, the attack in China will further increase tensions between the two world powers."

_It explains why Vile's with us. We're being sent right into the hornet's nest. He'll be an excellent distraction, just by showing himself he'll be bound to take a majority of the heat._

"I will be uploading personnel files of all currently known Maverick Hunters assigned to your target facility, and I've marked ones that my analysis shows are particularly high value targets. I leave the completion of your mission entirely to you." She looked away from the camera, her voice wavering. "Come back alive. That's an order. Godspeed." With that, the connection was terminated.

"She's a pretty little thing, bit on the soft side. How's it feel to be told to go and die?" Vile asked.

"I didn't hear her say that." Adam's smile bared his perfect teeth, and he flexed his new arms. "We will follow our orders."

"Very intimidating." Vile shot back, walking off towards the bay where his ride armor was stored.

They had less than two days to prepare for and execute the mission. They couldn't complain. Apollo had asked them to disable two military installations and hold a city hostage within a single day. This was comparatively easy.

**December 6th, 2133 3:23 AM  
Site Alfa**

_Goddamn, it's cold. I can't believe I liked snow camping as a kid, what the hell._

Ricardo Sato stood atop one of the many guard towers of Site Alfa, a Russian issue mag-rifle in hand. A model of one, at any rate. Designed to simulate the kick of the real thing whilst loaded, and at least as heavy as one, it was connected to the simulation network, and would assist the thousands of sensors in the area in determining whether or not a target he 'shot' was dead or incapacitated. Assuming he was 'killed', the specialized Simulation Harness would immobilize him painlessly where he stood, and he'd drop to the ground as a 'corpse' that needed to be cleared. It was a different level of realism from MSWAT.

Ricardo was unsure of his standing now that his old MSWAT unit was calling itself Vanguard. He figured he wasn't privy to all of The Captain's machinations, so Vanguard was still a bit of a mystery. Lars was a squad leader, so he had to be a part of the inner circle of this thing, so he was a little miffed that he was keeping quiet about it to another human. Lars probably had reasons or orders to ensure that secrecy, but even so.

It was dark, and visibility beyond the site perimeter was practically zero, with all of the lighting that dotted the place. Even using a scope to look out into the darkness revealed nothing. After his shift was finished, he'd bring that up with the watch commander. The opposing force might be able to use thermal optical camo to defeat the eyeballs of a human being, and throw off a set of thermal scopes for a little while, they couldn't hide everything about a reploid.

"So, where do you think they'll hit?" Lars was in the same tower as him.

"Well, if I was them, I'd cut the power now and strike while people are trying to readjust to the darkness. You gonna talk about Vanguard?"

"It is what it is."

"Doesn't mean shit to me, Lieutenant. Come on, we're training with friggin' Spetznaz. MSWAT doesn't do this sort of thing."

"'Cause we ain't MSWAT no more. Where do you think they'll hit from?"

"Peaks to the south east. We'll know when people start dropping 'dead'."

"Sounds a bit obvious." Lars sighed. "Look, I can't tell you what we really are just yet. You're important to it, s'why you're here. Erebus said we'll get the skinny after this is said and done." The older man slapped Ricardo on the shoulder. "Come on, I trusted you to put mag-rifle shots past my head. Trust me for once."

"Right." Ricardo grunted. "Just wondering why we gotta freeze our balls off here, is all. We take down Mavericks. Special Forces work isn't what we do."

"With promotions come responsibilities." Lars said cryptically. "South east huh? Makes sense, only place that's elevated. Put a couple arty guys there, we lose half the base by default. Don't think they'll be content to do just that though."

"That's if they hit tonight. If they're planning on infiltration, they'll wait a day or two. Then we're really screwed." Ricardo shouldered his rifle for a moment, rubbing his gloved hands together to generate some heat if possible. "Weather report says another storm is coming through tomorrow."

"Get outta here, Ricky. Get some sleep." Lars tapped his watch. "You'll be back in nine hours. Don't forget to report to Captain Ilya."

_Five more days. Wish they'd just get it over with._ The climb down the ladder was slow, and he felt cramped all over from the cold. Ricardo jogged the whole way back to barracks, stopping once when he realized he was all alone in the middle of the lights on the main road. Throughout Site Alfa, hundreds of men patrolled and stood guard, and he still felt completely unsafe.

* * *

One of the conditions for Vanguard's existence was that Erebus was to report to the President and his cabinet at twice a month. They were risking a lot politically to have allowed for Vanguard, so it made sense that they wanted to keep tabs on their new toy. It was growing late in the evening in Washington DC, and he'd been holding off on first update of the month long enough. Ever since he'd pitched this idea, these reports had mostly been updates on specific personnel, requests for additional logistical support, and the usual backroom deals that guaranteed him access to the what the American intelligence community had to offer, which would further augment Vanguard's ability to hit precisely where it needed to, when it needed to.

He didn't want to break the news to the entire team right away, but that time was coming up soon. Vanguard wasn't going to be Maverick specific in nature. Legitimate human targets could find themselves in the sights of these warriors, and it was important that they understood that. It wouldn't bother the human members so much, but most reploids typically had some apprehension towards the taking of human life with the connotations it came with.

The common perception in the public was that any time a reploid killed a human, they were a Maverick, no questions asked, unless they were defending themselves, and even then it was a a perceived 'slippery slope'. This was slowly fading away as nations used reploids to augment their fighting strength. The Middle East, in particular, had only gotten bloodier with the rise of the reploid as a viable combat system, something that civil rights groups howled about with increasing volume about the idea of sentient beings being forced into military. The US in particular had received a lot of heat over its RSF programs, and some argued that the price at been paid earlier this year.

Erebus blinked once, and suddenly he was no longer sitting in a cold observation lounge in Russia, but now stood at attention before President Holden Souther and the Cabinet.

"Good evening, gentlemen." To them, they saw a holographic representation of the reploid salute them sharply.

"At ease, Erebus." The President sounded friendly enough, but did not smile, hadn't smiled very much since September. "How goes the exercise?"

"Well enough."

"We've been going over your personal analysis of the situation in Russia." The Secretary of Defense spoke up. "The Pentagon agrees that the Chinese do not possess reploid units capable of the destruction of the facility and leave next to no evidence behind save for the broken up data from that black box. The chances of it being caused by our rogue units is substantial. This is obviously something we cannot admit to the world. As far as anyone is concerned, we are dealing with that situation, it is under control. With luck, we'll be able to use you and the 1st RSF in dealing with the situation before it spirals out of control."

"What is the United States' official stance on the Russian-Chinese border build up?" Erebus asked.

"We are concerned, officially. Unofficially, we support the Russians on this one, nothing overt of course. They are business partners for oil and energen, and we've been sharing military and technical expertise for decades. This does put us at direct odds with the GDC, who have been pushing to get China a greater role in their foreign policy adventures in the third world." SecDef replied. "If this whole thing isn't a false flag operation on the part of the Russians, if Nike is behind it, she's made things extremely difficult for us to act in an official capacity, and she's subtly drawn the lines in the sand for us."

"Will you be ready when the time comes?" The President was known for his direct lines of questioning.

"I would like a month for further logistics finalization and training, but I realize we may not have that time. At any rate, my people are chomping at the bit, just waiting to be given the full perspective on things." Erebus replied honestly. "We'll be back in the US in a little over a week."

"Of course." The President sighed, reaching for a cigarette in from his breast pocket. "The main reason you need to get your Vanguard up to speed is simple. The existence of the 1st RSF is considered unnecessary by some very vocal congressmen, and they've got a lot of public and political support. People see them as a potential liability. No offense intended, Erebus, but we know what your former comrades are capable of, and the recent incident in Japan does not speak well of them, or of reploids in general. Concerns have been raised in regards to the reliability of the 1st RSF."

The human expression when bad news came knocking varied depending on where you came from. Erebus envisioned a large bag full of bricks slamming into his face just then, and he felt it was appropriate.

"You're going to disband them?" _Why tell me about this? Why not tell their commander?_ "You just said we might be working in tandem with the 1st to deal with Nike, now you're telling me that we're considering them a potential liability."

"My cabinet and I agree that this is not a good idea, but given the backlash from the world in regards to AmeriCanada walking out on the GDC, their days as a fully reploid command structure are numbered. You can thank Apollo for that. The 1st has served the US and the world faithfully, without any major incident." Souther took a long drag of the cigarette. "But they can't change the fact that they are reploids, and their brothers and sisters in arms have basically thrown them to the wolves because of their actions."

"Also factor in that the Reploid Special Forces reploids have some of the most complex electronic brains employed for use in a standing military." This was General Culverson. Erebus had learned to dislike the man after Apollo's Rebellion, he was an outspoken critic of reploids as a whole. It couldn't be denied that he did look at it from a very practical standpoint. Weapon systems with consciences were just another problem on top of humans having those too. "Given that General Lenneth's unit are essentially same model, same make as those Mavericks from September, you have to understand that some apprehension is a logical result."

"How long do they have?" Back in Russia, Erebus chanced a look at General Lenneth. Being Nike's 'twin' gave her very good looks, of that there was no doubt. She was studying a map of Site Alfa, her golden eyes flashing with further information, a small smile spreading across her face. Twelve feet away from her, he was secretly discussing the possibility that she would be stripped of her command, a very real chance that she'd be 'repurposed'. The sorts of things she was fighting hard to prevent from being seen as an option. If she was lucky, she'd only end up being integrated into a regular army unit. The alternative was memory wipe, followed by an apology and explanation as to why she didn't remember anything. Given her service history, she might recieve a benefits package that could help get her on her feet to survive for the rest of her life as a civilian. If she was lucky.

"Congress is in recess for the remainder of the month. When they come back in January, the fate of the 1st RSF will be decided on whether or not the Military Reploid Reorganization Act is passed. It can be vetoed, but that will only go so far. I personally feel that despite issues, military reploids are valuable in that they help preserve human life because their very precise nature, but are still able to make valuable judgement calls on the spot." Culverson said.

"If the Reploid Special Forces are completely disbanded, your Vanguard will be 'it'. The only other thing of its kind in the world would be the Hunters, but you'd be at the disposal of the US first." The President tapped some of the ashes away from his smoke. "We need to you be prepared to fill in that gap. After the exercise, you should inform your people that they are to be considered on call." Souther continued. "Don't mention a word of this to General Lenneth or any of her people. Nothing is set in stone, and she's already aware of her position, just not aware at how precarious it truly is."

"Of course, sir." Erebus wondered how true that last bit really was.

_Is this what you saw, Apollo? Did you see this all of the time as a General, being casually moved around like an errant chess piece, considered just a mere factor in some larger equation?_

_You sent me all of your data before you died. Nothing in your private writings suggest a grudge against humanity or against those who serve them willingly._

_You once asked me what it would take to finally achieve unity of human and reploidkind. You asked me this after Rwanda, after that night. We debated history. We know that madmen and charlatans have all promised unity, have all done so through treachery and murder on one level or another._

_'Perhaps their methods were not strong enough,' you said. Hermes said something like that once. Is this really the goal? You wanted to throw the world back to the aftermath of the 2090's? Because that wasn't enough? _

_Maybe that's why you hesitated months ago. You could have leveled that Arcology, killed lots of people, but you didn't. You made a deal with the politicians you lost faith in. Not because you suddenly cared that innocents were involved, but because the lesson you had in mind was not strong enough._

_Did you foresee those who survived you doing what you couldn't?_

For the moment, Erebus could at least count on the US government to back him on his theory. It was mostly based on conjecture and circumstance, but they could determine that if Nike was adding fuel to the fire between Russia and China, there could focus their efforts on intelligence gathering, which would give him a chance to put an end to her game before it really got started. The aftermath would have to be decided by politicians.


	6. Phase 4: The Ultraviolence

**Phase 4: The Ultraviolence**

**December 7th, 2133 8:15AM  
MHHQ  
New Tokyo, Japan**

Solar Falcon had taken some time to get reacquainted with moving around a proper atmosphere with gravity that would not get stronger or weaker from room to room. As soon as he'd come down to New Tokyo, he immediately got his low level flight clearance reactivated, wanting to avoid traveling around on food or by automobile if he could help it. The familiar rush of air against his metallic skin simply could not be done the same way aboard a colony block on SKYLIGHT, and as free as he felt in zero gee, it felt good to flap his artificial wings and feel them chop through the atmosphere early in the morning.

The Hunters were rarely in need of recruitment during relative peace-time such as this, but every morning dozens of applicants of two dominant species lined up at one of the tertiary entrances to MHHQ, eager to submit themselves to processing and hopefully acceptance into the training program. Hunting Mavericks was typically a reploid profession, but the Hunters had a storied history of humans who volunteered to do the work alongside of reploids. Among the more infamous human Hunter units was the 73rd Vermillion Unit, as skilled a combat team as any to be found in a military, commanded by a human, comprising primarily of humans, and still managing to stave off the retirement of their unit colors by keeping an impressive service record. They were an exception to an unspoken rule however: Humans would likely never be able to stand up to a Maverick, let alone most reploids one on one.

Falcon was lucky compared to some of the other applicants. Being an avian class feraloid, and combining that with his service record, there was very little mistake as to what his intended profession had been when he'd rolled off the factory line. He was a desired commodity in that sense. Reploids didn't get rusty with their skills in the same way that humans did, he would always be a military machine. He was banking on the idea that they perhaps wanted a reploid who was originally designed to hunt down aerospace fighters with beam talons and guided missiles while slicing through their formations at ranges they were not designed to fight in like he was. There was a chance that he would not be assigned to New Tokyo, that they would place him where he was needed. Being on Earth with a proper 'license to kill' sounded better than the alternative.

After September 10th, the GDC had sought to break down the major units from their original numbers. Maverick Hunter units had counted at full strength with a hundred Hunters, but with AmeriCanada out of the picture for military support for the moment, it meant that larger units were forced to disperse the 'extra' manpower. Meanwhile, smaller Hunter branches saw that the majority of their old hands 'released from service', filled by those dispersed units, all to save the GDC some money. Things were especially bad in South America, where human and reploid living standards were still significantly worse than North America, and it made for a fairly high number of non-viral Mavericks, on top of the usual human specific disputes of drugs, labor, and political differences or freedoms. Originally, MHHQ New York was the overall command authority in the Americas, but after the recent schism, their efforts, by order of the US government, were focused primarily in North America. While the GDC and the US continued to spar over the legality of such actions, it meant that New Tokyo was shouldering much of the burden for the interim, and was stretched thinner than it had ever been.

Regardless of where he ended up, Falcon wanted to be a Hunter. He did have a secret weapon up his sleeve to improve his chances of staying home, though.

"Alright, gimme a moment to look up your file." A silver reploid said, standing in front of him quite suddenly. "Solar Falcon, date of inception February 12th, 2119. Is this correct?"

"Sure is." Falcon felt himself straighten up as the shorter reploid gave him a once over. _This guy creeped up on me. I didn't even hear him walk up._ He ran a self diagnostic on his audio pick-ups, to be safe.

"My name is Doan. We're gonna run you through security real quick, then I'll take you on a roving tour of the facility, ask you some questions. Basic stuff." Doan spun to walk away, and Falcon followed dutifully.

"So, when do I start?" Falcon joked.

"Hahaaaaaa cute." Doan replied.

"On a serious note, I've been watching the news. Saw that a member of the 21st unit fought off a Maverick at Nerima Base."

"Yeah, if you want his autograph, maybe we'll get lucky and we can see him coming out of morning exercises. Is that why you're here?"

"It's related. I have information on that Maverick. We used to work together." Doan turned back around to face him at that, scanning the combat reploid for signs of sarcasm, or of an imminent threat.

"You're serious." Doan concluded. "We'll go straight to the data center after security then. You have a physical hard copy of the info, right? Security precautions of course, we're not going to just give you a hardline access to our network."

"Three on me. One on delivery to New York, and one to here. Just in case I didn't make it here for whatever reason."

"Thorough. Lets get you checked out." The silver reploid walked a touch faster now.

* * *

Signas had just arrived at the command center to replace the GDC Captain on duty for the transitional late night/early morning shift. He didn't intend to stay very long for the day, as he'd been invited by Arseny back to Russia to take part in observing an exercise that was to continue over the next four days. If it hadn't had anything to do with the recent incident in Russia, he might not have bothered, but anything to get an idea on how the 'reploid terrorists' operated could prove useful. What also caught his attention was that Captain Erebus from LA MSWAT was also at the exercise. That was another very busy reploid commander these days, and he had a vested interest in recent events, so it hadn't surprised Signas too much that Erebus was in Russia as well. It was a good time exchange information with his American contemporary. Perhaps he was seeing something Signas hadn't. There were still loose ends from a few months back that he'd shown a keen interest in following to their conclusion, and Signas was likewise interested. He'd sent good Hunters to fight and die in that fracas, closure over the loss of people in his command was something he would have relished.

"Commander Signas?" The Hunter named Doan broke through the speakers situated on the command chair. "I've got a reploid getting checked out here at Security Entrance C, named Solar Falcon. He was here today saying he wants to join the Hunters. When I approached him, he claims he knew the Maverick from the Nerima attack personally. While he was getting scanned, I took a peak at the data he claims he's got, and it seems legit. I think this is pretty serious."

"I'll meet you in the training data center. Have Commander Gavin meet us there."

* * *

Solar Falcon had taken the repeated security scans well, allowing technicians to pry open access panels on his armor plating to scan for hidden explosives. It was impossible to be too careful, honestly. Human extremists still managed to hide explosives inside of vests to kill bus loads of children in the Middle East. Drug traffickers still used young boys and girls to smuggle drugs. With reploids, there were a lot more places to hide contraband, and a military reploid like Falcon could carry a lot more than than any human.

"This is certainly an interesting way to get yourself recruited." Gavin remarked, having arrived at the data center by Signas' request. "You knew the big guy from the Nerima thing?"

"Unfortunately." Falcon spoke with a mix of emotions, a twinge of sadness, the dying embers of betrayed trust. "He was a friend. He ended up being a monster. Ruined my faith that what I was doing in space meant something good in the end. I couldn't just sit up there and watch from the sidelines."

"Well, you've come to the right place." Gavin nodded.

"Reasonable motivations." Signas said, his eyes glowing while he scanned the data that Falcon had provided. "Of course, we will need to have the data match what the SKYLIGHT Restoration Project has on hand, but I am seeing no signs of overt data manipulation."

"So, Commander. What is your analysis of the data?" Falcon stood up, matching Signas for height.

"If true, the data suggests a former military artillery reploid with years of combat experience, and is Maverick, was able to apply data manipulation techniques in such a degree that he was able to blend in with workers on the restoration. He had access to the Metool maintenance net, which extends his potential influence to nearly every major system on the weapon, most notably the station keeping functions, positional thruster control, firing control, emergency destruct system. He is affiliated with Apollo's Rebellion, meaning he is joined with like minded and similarly capable Mavericks." Signas held a monotone as he spoke, breaking it to add. "It is quite the potential nightmare. We will need more time to confirm this of course. Are you able to stay within MHHQ for the time being?"

"Got nowhere else to be, sir." Solar Falcon could not smile the same way others did, but the content was clear in his voice as he saluted. "I will assume I am on standby until officially activated for duty and training with the unit I am assigned to."

**Drop Pod One  
8:34AM**

The inside of the drop pod was dark and cramped, but Adam and Bernard did not let it bother them. The mechaniloid that was carrying their pod was colloquially known as a Bee Blader, but the official designation was the Type 16 'Mitsubatchi' Air Support Polycraft. It was not nearly as fearsome in capacity as other Mechaniloids that the Japanese fielded, but it did have the unfortunate history of being one of the primary weapons subverted for use by Sigma's forces during the First Uprising. The images of these units flying over New Tokyo and strafing traffic on the highways around the city were still haunting to this day. Capitalizing on their history, Sigma had retained a small manufacturing center in one of his hidden bases that could produce more of these units even after the JSDF had discontinued their use in the wake of the Uprising. It was true to his style, to make use of whatever psychological edges he could muster over his human and Hunter foes.

"Everyone, check your weapons and ammo." Adam spoke into his helmet mic.

His displays confirmed that his mag-rifle met operational standards, and that the belt feed system that connected it to the storage on his back was in the green. The finger tip mounted machine guns hissed open and shut on his right hand. The linear gun on his right shoulder dropped into its ready position, then slid back into storage mode, the barrel folding in half and sliding back into place alongside his storage pack. Once the 'expendables' were used up, he could jettison what he didn't need to move faster, and he imagined that he'd have to do that fairly quickly.

Beside him, Bernard completed his own checks and flashed him a thumbs up in the darkness. Carel and Daniel reported a moment later that they were ready.

The Bee Bladers had been carried at extremely high altitude into Japanese airspace by a solar powered 'carrier wing', packing enough radar absorbent material to make detection difficult, if not impossible. This combined with a sophisticated radar ghost projection system on board the wing that would intermittently redirect radar waves back to ground stations in such a way that they would get false positives miles away from their actual location. With the Bladers packed in close together, radar systems that did pick them up were less likely to be able to identify them until they went active and were separate form the wing. There were four Bladers total.

Vile's plan amounted to them doing the heavy lifting at MHHQ proper, while he got their attention outside of HQ in the ride armor 'by any means necessary'. In moments, the carrier wing would jettison the Bladers, and begin a terminal dive towards whatever Vile believed was a target rich environment, and do what he did best. Two of the Bladers, the ones that did not carry the other four, would follow him and provide as much support as they could. It was expected they would not last too long once things got heated up. They didn't need to. They only needed to get a response from the Hunters, and it was guaranteed to be a big one. Enough to give the four a chance to walk away from this alive.

It would have been simple to just break in silently, take what they wanted, and leave. Nike had infiltrated once, just to prove a point. There was always the chance that she could have failed, however, and no matter how good she was, she could not have possibly escaped on her own. Information alone was not the goal. The Hunters were a GDC organ, and by definition that made them a legitimate target. An attack like this could only further shake reploid and human confidence in the GDC. Adam's only regret for all of this was that he could not convince himself entirely that the Hunters deserved what was about happen. In another world, the Hunters and the Few might have been allies. They would never have raised their hands in anger towards the innocent.

_People die in war. It's the only reason why wars end in all eventuality, _Nike had said, hours before they departed Jeju-Do.

_Eventually, the cost of war becomes too much to bear, eventually the world tires of giving mothers the news they do not wish to hear, eventually the costs of maintaining machines like ourselves grows more than they can justify in a national budget. Resources dwindle or are compromised. Man and machine lose sight of their cause. It is best to negotiate a treaty that no one is truly satisfied with, offering a brief reprieve, a chance to restore what has been lost, a chance to scheme anew._

_The GDC has managed to turn this cycle into a 'sad necessity', played off as something small and controlled, while the world slowly splinters apart around it. For all of the power and influence it claims to have, look how quickly the politicians have drawn their lines in the sand, how easily we were able to set Russia and China at eachother's throats. We number less than a hundred, and we've already set into motion events that may very well be irreversible._

_A great man once said 'The tree of liberty must be refreshed from time to time with the blood of patriots and tyrants.' Indeed, patriots and tyrants will find their blood spilled for this cause. Innocents will suffer because of this, but does this surprise anyone? Humanity did not learn in the aftermath of the 2040's, and they did not learn after the 2090's. Even now, reploidkind, the prodigal children of man, follow in the footsteps of their creators. We remain divided. We've learned nothing._

_That is why we will do what we must. Forever hated, or forever revered, no matter the cost to ourselves. We have never forgotten that ultimately, we serve mankind. Someone somewhere will understand, even through the sorrow we will visit upon them. Much akin to human childbirth, through pain will a new opportunity arise. A new chance to set things right. We will refresh this 'tree of liberty', we will provide it the sacrifices it needs. If we do not, it will lay withered and dead, another thing for the GDC to have taken from this world._

Adam checked his internal chronometer. The drop pod shuddered, and the sound of air whipping past got louder. The darkness of the pod was shattered by a dim green LED. It was time.

"Vile to Team Butcher. Commencing mission, now. Time to impact, five minutes. The Bladers will disperse and prepare for your assault."

Adam, Butcher One, nodded at Bernard, once again his number Two. It began.

**MHHQ**

Nana was on an early shift this morning, and thankfully, things were quiet. She spent most of her time directing flight patrols from her 21st around New Tokyo, but when she wasn't being queried by Hunters on their rounds, she dedicated a part of her time to browsing the internet, catching up on any news she might have missed, and like many people in the world, following the Chinese-Russian tensions with great interest.

The command center of MHHQ was integrated into the JSDF's surveillance network, which allowed the Hunters to coordinate with the military in the even the need arose. It also spared the GDC from having to build a specialized radar and early warning system that was specific to MHHQ's needs.

A new contact beeped on her display, much higher than typical air traffic. It was marked 'UNKNOWN-1' by the system, altitude seventy thousand feet and falling. The contact seemed to hop around the screen for short distances, fading out between each 'hop'. It was more or less located on the outskirts of the city.

Nana checked her own internal database, and found nothing on schedule to be at that location and altitude, nothing official. It was far higher than typical civilian air traffic. There was the chance that it was another earth-bound shuttle from SKYLIGHT that had screwed up it's entry angle and was circling and waiting to get in contact with a ground control station for a clear flight path. They'd have to screw up pretty badly, but it had happened before, it could happen again. She sighed and contacted New Tokyo Air Traffic Control.

"ATC New Tokyo?"

"Loud and clear MH Command. Cute voice this morning." Nana rolled her eyes at that.

"Can you confirm a contact designated UNKNOWN-1, angels 35 and descending, currently southwest of your location, speed 350, course heading indeterminate?"

"We see it over here MHHQ. Not responding to proper ID squawk, unable to locate visually on our end."

The radar beeped again. Four more contacts seemed to fade in next to the first, then fading away.

"Can you confirm that just now?"

"We're seeing it on the scopes, MHC, we're still not able to get a visual confirmation to back it up."

UNKNOWN-1 continued to fade in and out on the screen, leaving Nana wondering if she should escalate this to the JSDF. She decided it couldn't hurt. She parsed from the data record what she needed, and sent it and a contact report out to Misawa Base. They had interceptors that could check it out if necessary. There was only so much she and the civilian controller at New Tokyo ATC could do to further investigate the contacts.

Nana found that she could not return to her casual net browsing, her eyes locked solidly on the radar contact. She sent out an alert to the air patrol units from the 21st, and looking at her maps, she noticed that Zero was in the area. When she tried to contact him, she could not get through. Probably had his direct line shut down for the moment. Typical.

_That doesn't make sense. How can ATC not visually identify a radar contact?_ Nana switched to the surveillance satellite network, trying to find the descending contact visually, but found nothing in the area the radar claimed the object was in. She could see members of the 21st on patrol, matching the cameras and radar positions perfectly.

A portion of the radar display became distorted just then, a warning window indicating interference in that zone. She quickly panned the sat-cams north to the position her radars could not penetrate, and saw a white flying wing of a design that she and her data terminal could not identify, descending at the same rate as the contact...but not where the radar claimed it was. A system integrity check would essentially lock her out of the terminal temporarily, and turn over her Navigator duties to another technician.

_Can't be the system. It's almost too specific._

"Rika, I need to run a system scan, something feels off. Can you display my current surveillance grid on your screens?"

Rika was an orange haired female reploid of similar size and shape to Nana, assigned to the 73rd Unit as its primary navigator. They were practically sisters, having joined the Hunters at same time. They'd been taken from their fairly mundane duties at a GDC ground station in the UK and became members of the first batch of reploids that would undertake navigation duties at MHHQ. She spun her chair a full rotation just to face Nana. She'd always been the more energetic of the two.

"Sure thing, girl. I'll even match your current display settings on my screen. I couldn't help but overhear you just now. Do you think it's that hacker Maverick again?"

"I really can't tell...it's weird. Really weird. Might be jamming, might be an image ghost, but the system isn't picking up any characteristics of either."

"Worried about 'your' 21st?"

"Oh, leave me alone about that!"

"That's what you're tracking?" Rika pointed at the descending wing on her display. "It's going to hit the Memorial Bridge!"

A ripple of gasps filled their workspace, as multiple workers put the same images on their own displays.

It was quite the thing to see in real time and from directly above, the cars knocked cleanly away from the span and into the river passing beneath, support cabling snapping, the bridge itself rippling from the sudden structural strain. By some miracle, it hadn't outright collapsed. They could see vehicles sliding to a halt, some smaller pile ups. Some abandoned their cars and ran towards the median walkways on the bridge, not wanting to be anywhere near the fallen craft.

The Navigators got very busy right then, emergency calls going out to deployed Hunter units throughout New Tokyo. While her system continued its integrity check, she noticed that both X and Zero were among the closest Hunters to the accident. She tried three times to raise Zero, and got nothing.

_Answer, damnit!_ Another attempt later, and she knew that as always, he'd severed his direct connection with the Navigators. X was not quite as thickheaded.

"Commander X speaking."

"Can you get Zero to reopen his direct connection?"

"Darnit, Zero...I'll speak at him for you. Anything else?"

"The New Tokyo Memorial Bridge just had a serious accident, and he's the closest hunter to it other than yourself, sir."

"How bad?"

"A plane hit it. I'm serious, sir. It looks real bad."

"I'm on the way."

**InterPrefecture highway 16  
8:41 AM**

Zero Omega was not the type to assign a roving patrol to others and and just handle paperwork back at the ranch. Never had been, and if he had a say in it, he never would be. He threw himself into the role of being a Hunter in the field happily. Time on the move was time not spent lingering around the reminders of his past. Time in training was time preparing to act on his guilt, not wallowing in it. Two years ago, Zero watched the most important woman in his life die for the second time.

There were humans out in the world who could say, with all seriousness, that reploids could not feel, they could not understand love or companionship the way a human being did. They were wrong. It was more accurate to say that humans could never understand how reploids experienced love and loss. The Crimson Hunter knew these things all too well. Funny thing about reploid life, it was relatively 'easy' to restore, provided the control chip was intact, or core memory was recovered somehow from it. It was that very thing that Sigma had taken advantage of.

It was something that Zero had briefly entertained when it came to his Iris, on days when he was allowed to dwell on her memory for too long. In the end, the corrupted Iris was not worth the risk. He'd even said so himself. It had hurt to admit that, but it was true. Her remains, tainted as they were, rested next to heroes and martyrs, and there they would stay, forever. Zero had finally moved on. That was likely what others thought. To him, it meant that the act was working. He doubted he'd truly get over Iris. He knew what his true purpose had been, as the final son of a madman. He couldn't forget that, couldn't ignore it, but he could keep moving forward.

The best part about doing patrols on a Land Chaser was the speed of the damn things. He wove through traffic on the streets and highways in and around New Tokyo like a man possessed, doing speeds that would be impossible to match for humans. He always tried to see how much faster he could ride, how long could he ride on the razors edge of life in one piece and death in many pieces. X had taken up the mantle from the late Doctor Cain when it came to warning Zero to slow it down or he'd get himself and others killed, and Zero assured them he had no real death wish.

The other thing that he enjoyed about patrols was that when he did slow down, he could see the stares or waves of recognition from the people he protected. Children were the best kinds of humans. Oftentimes, he'd pass family vehicles and slow down to flash a thumbs up at kids who pressed their faces comically against the passenger windows, waving madly at the Crimson Hunter. Despite prevalent reploid prejudice around the world, the Japanese were much more accepting than most when it came to savior 'robots' like the Hunters, and Zero made quite the badass action figure, if he said so himself. In fact, it was something he liked to tease X about now and again; his action figures did sell better than X's, but only by a little bit.

It was a start. Children would hopefully grow up knowing that opposing the Maverick threat were heroes of metal or flesh, genuine ones. Perhaps in the next decades, people who lived through the Uprisings would see the distinction between Maverick and regular reploid. It was a nice thought. In the same way that it was the responsibility of a parent to guide their children down a good path, it was his responsibility as a Maverick Hunter to keep that path as safe as possible.

**Caution: Traffic Ahead** the onboard navigation warned Zero. He zoomed in on the oncoming obstruction, seeing if there was a place he could slip through at a decent speed. No such luck, and with that his joy ride came to a halt.

He could hear sirens. Police polycraft flew overhead towards a bridge, where red and blew lights flickered at both ends. Odd. He zoomed in as far as his optics allowed, and saw some sort of crashed aircraft on the bridge, many of the support cables severed, the bridge buckling towards the river. The aircraft itself was a white 'wing' design a part of it ripped away and floating on the water's surface below the bridge, and it obstructed all six lanes. _Why haven't I heard about this? _A low flying polycraft flew past Zero, the pilot playing an automated message.

"Attention citizens. The New Tokyo Memorial Bridge is currently closed due to an accident. We will begin diverting traffic into side streets as soon as possible. The New Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department apologizes for the inconvenience. We ask at this time that you do not leave your vehicles. I repeat..."

Zero sat up on his bike, sighing and pulling off his helmet, letting his lengthy blond hair free for a moment. It was like this for miles, according to his GPS. A blinking message window appeared in his vision. X was on his own patrol, not very far away, apparently encountering a similar traffic situation on the highway leading to the bridge on the other side of the river. The incoming call was marked urgent.

"Zero, you really should keep the navigator's direct line open. They're calling me to call you to say they've been trying to contact you about the bridge." X sounded exasperated. "You know I hate it when you do that, I only put up with it because I've come to expect it from you. It couldn't hurt you to not treat them like a complete annoyance.

"You put up with it cause you can't get me to stop cutting the bunnies off.." Zero laughed. "Okay, okay, I'll play nice. I was gonna head on over myself to investigate. Meet you at the site?"

"You'll probably beat me there, there was a pile up not too far from where I'm stuck, I'll lend a hand to rescue services until paramedics arrive."

"Gotcha."

"Zero?"

"Yeah?"

"Re-open that channel. I know you haven't done it yet. Nana's telling me, you know."

"Fine..." With that, X's message window winked away.

He typically blocked off messages from the Navigators when he was riding. The girls had good intentions, the GDC had good intentions, but it said a lot when even Signas found the new navigators somewhat unnecessary and even intrusive. It was just another link in the chain of command that could complicate things. _They're gonna be upset._ He switched his radio to receive their calls.

"Commander Zero, are you alright?" Nana sounded annoyed. "You shut down communications. Again. You were in the area, so I thought to warn you. Looks like you already know now."

"Sorry about that." Zero said, only half meaning it. He looked around and saw that traffic was essentially at a standstill. "What can you tell me about the crash?"

"I tracked it on its way down alongside of New Tokyo ATC. It's an honest to goodness UFO."

"...What?"

"The police on scene can't identify it by make. They're reporting it has some kind of storage unit in the fuselage, but they aren't going to approach until a bomb squad is on the scene."

"Any reason they haven't called in the Maverick Hunters?" Zero slipped his helmet back on.

"You think they'd tell me?"

"I'll take a look myself then. Keep me posted, Nana."

"You have to keep the channel open for me to do that."

"Nag, nag." Zero dismounted his Land Chaser, and had it recall back to HQ, becoming a blinding red beam of light that angled back towards its home. It was unlikely he could take it on the shoulder and still have clearance from any larger vehicles. He opened up his warp menu, seeing if he could take a 'short jump' closer to the crash site, but found that option was out of the question. "Nana? Have the police set up a warp bubble?"

"They'd have to clear that with us, wouldn't they?"

"Get the 21st to put a loose perimeter around that crash." Zero was already running on the shoulder of the highway. "I don't like this at all." He found himself running faster now. _Another attack? Same opener, a bubble goes up, prevents Hunters from intervening quickly. It's too similar._ "Nana, is the field localized from a ground unit or are the satellites compromised again?"

"It has to be local, they disabled the geosynchronous platforms after the Nerima incident. It was all over the news."

Zero started to reply when the police polycraft that had been urging citizens to stay inside their vehicles was blotted from the sky by a thin green lance of energy. The ensuing blast echoed loudly over the thrums of repulsor fields on the civilian vehicles surrounding him. He could hear people cry out in surprise, shouts of dismay and terror. He broke into a sprint.

The center of the Memorial Bridge suddenly vanished in a dirty orange fireball, the shockwave rumbling through the air, sending ripples along the water and debris flying in every direction. Puffs of smoke could be seen rising from parts of the city near the bridge as larger pieces of debris landed in buildings and streets. A part of the span broke off from the bridge and fell into the river, taking a number of police vehicles with it.

To his right, across the river and on the highway where X had transmitted from, explosions rippled across a whole section, cars and chunks of highway flying in every direction. Snaking away from the explosions were the contrails characteristic of missiles, dozens of them, leading to a distant black spot in the sky. His optics automatically zoomed in on it, identifying it quickly as a Bee Blader. _Oh my God_.

"Nana, a bomb just destroyed the bridge, it's fracking gone! Highway 16 is under attack! Mavericks!" Zero shouted, as the shockwave hit him a moment later. People started to exit their vehicles by the hundreds, some crowding into the middle of the lanes, some onto the shoulder, camera phones out and snapping away. He jumped onto the railing to avoid running into some folks. He could reach sixty miles an hour in a full sprint if he pushed himself, and could get much faster if he used the dash system. It would be bad news to hit someone at full speed.

The operator didn't respond. He tried again.

"Nana. Can you hear me? Mavericks!"

Static.

"X, you seeing this? Answer me!"

Nothing.

The fact was that the work they performed had a very high mortality rate. There was a very real chance that X had been caught in the middle of the first strike.

_No way. Not X. Not today, not like this!_

As he continued to run, he noticed that some people were trying to call on their cell phones, shaking them with disgust. In the distance, he heard the characteristic report of a tank killing autocannon, and further explosions, coming from the police blockade on his side of the river. There was too much smoke and flame obscuring his view to make out details.

Green lances of light fell upon vehicles with lethal precisions, and the highway quaked violently, forcing him off the railing and back onto the shoulder. The screams grew louder. Everyone was fleeing towards him, past him, and he slowed down, trying to work his way past frightened humans and reploids. He looked up, trying to trace the source of the incoming fire, seeing another Blader at work. _The JSDF discontinued the whole line after Sigma's First! Where'd they get these things?_

"Come on, HQ, they've got Bladers, if you're hearing this send some frigging help out here, civilians are getting slaughtered!" Zero could make out two of the bulbous craft, who were staying up high enough that there was simply no way he could reach them with himself, and he couldn't risk a warp cancel to get up close to them without knowing the nature of the EM field. It was only a matter of time before they targeted and opened fire on him. The civilians around him would die, and he would fail to protect them, no matter how much he wished to.

The Blader paused in mid-air, as if reading his mind, turning to face him, the chin mounted beam cannon twitching at him, adjusting its aim. An emerald glow swelled at the tip of the weapon, arcs of energy twisting to break free.

"GET CLEAR OF ME!" Zero shouted, leaping into the air, trying to isolate himself as much as possible from the civilians. The first shot sailed past his left side by several yards, tearing open the roadway, cars and people falling through the new hole to the city streets hundreds of feet below. He landed atop what appeared to be a school bus, buckling the roof, before pushing off as a second shot obliterated it and three other passenger vehicles next to it.

He had almost shut off his audio sensors, the screams from the victims were nearly unbearable. Adding his own scream to the cacophony, Zero formed a buster and shot back as best as he could, running as quickly as his body allowed, jumping from vehicle to vehicle, trying to get away from the innocent. Through it all, he could feel the heat of passing energy and detonating vehicles all around him, and he watched through an increasingly red haze as the Blader deftly dodged his buster shots, and sent back a wave of dumbfire rockets. The Crimson Hunter twisted his body to avoid some, shot wildly at others, trying to keep the damage below him at a minimum.

It was June 4th, 2118 all over again. It was Hell.

* * *

Signas straightened up quite suddenly, his expression turning grim.

"Commander?" Gavin asked.

"Nana just reported losing contact with Zero Omega and X three miles south of the New Tokyo Memorial Bridge. She cannot raise any Hunter units within twenty miles of it. The Metropolitan Police are reporting some sort of explosion, and Nana's satellites confirm the bridge has been destroyed, with what appears to be fighting breaking out on the highway leading to and from the bridge. Gavin, you and Doan are to immediately sortie. Do not warp. Nana's last contact with Zero indicates an EM barrier is in that area. You are to assist him with members of the 21st who were already deployed over the city. Go now!"

"What about the jamming?" Doan asked quietly. His face seemed to turn blank, his voice monotone, all business.

"We have operators. They will be working on that problem, and we'll have terrestrial communications in the operations area hopefully soon." The two hunters sprinted off towards an elevator that would take them to the equipment hangar, an insistent but calm female voice filled the air in their wake, calling to all members of the 21st to assemble. Signas turned back to face Falcon. "Do not take this the wrong way, but I'd appreciate if you stayed close to me. Security reasons of course."

"Should I get myself a weapon?" Falcon stood up, flapping his wings once to signal his readiness to assist.

"Did you think I was taking you for a walk? We were headed to the armory."

* * *

_You bastards, you goddamned bastards._

Zero had finally managed to break free of the panicked and dying crowds of civilians and was well into a section of highway filled with abandoned cars, closing in on what was left of the police blockade on the west side of the bridge. He'd been fortunate thus far, but felt sick at heart. His armor was scored by near misses from the beam cannons on the Bladers, stained with the blood of humans and reploids alike who had been too close to him. After minutes of pulse raising combat, the Bladers seemed to leave him alone, and he could not find them anywhere. Wishing he had eyes on the back of his head, he kept spinning around every few steps, checking to see if they were trying to sneak up on him. He desperately wanted to reach MHHQ to call for medical assistance for the wounded, but he still had no way to contact them through the jamming.

He still hadn't seen or heard signs of X.

Zero crossed a series of shattered toll booths, abandoned by their workers thankfully. This half of the bridge buckled towards the river violently, and he could hear the distinct sounds of heavy duty actuators on a ride armor fighting to compensate for the steep grade. The autocannon he heard before still tore into the few remaining police officers in the area, occasionally cutting down polycraft that ventured too close. Darting behind an empty van marked 'Bomb Disposal Squad', he was finally able to get a decent look at what was on the rampage.

The ride armor in question was unlike the typical models the JSDF deployed. It was strikingly more humanoid in design, and far sleeker, standing at sixteen feet tall. It's single red mono-eye glowed furiously, contrasting its white frame. Under one of its arms was the heavy autocannon he'd been hearing since this had started, barrels glowing red hot from use. It appeared to have 'wings' of a sort hanging behind it, eight prongs arranged on its back and facing the ground. Despite these radical design changes and enhancements, there was something about it that kept it firmly rooted to its predecessors. The way it carried its weight, the way that its legs shifted from normal joints to a reverse joint configuration, the oversized arms, the heavyset torso, small things that called back to old designs. It had turned to face Zero as he approached, as though it had expected his arrival.

Zero charged forward, buster raised, unleashing a single blue-white bolt of plasma. _Gotta close range, take out that gun quick._

The ride armor spun _around_ the incoming shot with ease, leveling the autocannon at Zero, the barrel spinning back up. He fired up his dash thrusters, racing towards what was left of an armored car. _Need cover, something-_

The mecha raised the gun upward, holding fire, as if in waiting. Zero spun around mid dash, crashing back first against the armored car, chancing a quick glance at the machine. Its chest split open at several places, lifting upward to reveal the pilot, who was laughing hysterically. Zero responded by firing another plasma shot, and the armor slipped around it.

"Wow, I didn't expect to find you here so fast. Hello there, Zero. How's Iris?" The pilot's voice came through a loudspeaker mounted on the ride armor.

_VILE!_ Zero's mind raced, wondering how the Maverick was still alive, wondering if Sigma wasn't too far behind, and fighting a very real urge to throw caution to the wind. _I'm better than him, I'm not what I was two years ago. Stay calm._ He reached for a Rakuhouha charge mounted on his waist, preparing to move. The Maverick seemed content to wait patiently for Zero.

"I'm disappointed, I specifically mentioned the stupid Repliforce bitch just to get a rise out of you! Come on, show me some of that good old fashioned ultra-violence! Might as well get it out of the way before X gets here. He's on his way isn't he? Please say yes, I told him I'd be back. I told him I'd haunt him as long as he lived, it'd be such a goddamned buzzkill if I didn't get to see the two big damn heroes in one place!"

_Gimme a moment you monster,_ Zero thought, scanning the surroundings, taking in what he could. _Structure is unstable, he's just standing there like he owns the place. I've got three Rakuhouha on me...it'll do._

Zero broke cover towards the bridge railing, a red blur trailed by blue flame.

"Hey hey hey nobody said you could RUN!" Vile snarled, the ride armor cockpit clamping shut as the auto cannon roared to life, trailing Zero with foot wide gouges in the bridge for every missed shot, seventy five rounds a second. The recoil was enough to pushed the ride armor back a dozen feet before stabilizing foot claws gained enough purchase to slow down its inexorable slide towards the jagged edge.

Zero fired off another charged shot, another miss, and reconverted the buster back into a hand as he leaped forward, grabbing the railing and pulling himself over the side. As he swung over the side, the railing snapped under his weight, and he was in a free fall. _Not yet!_ He activated his thrusters once more and he managed to reach another hand hold, swinging himself under the bridge, flinging one Rakuhouha charge toward where he believed the ride armor now stood, then a second.

"Bet you think you're so clever!" Vile shouted. The autocannon ripped huge swaths through the bridge, disturbingly close to where Zero was hanging. Building up some momentum, he launched himself towards a support strut, grabbing onto an I-beam as the plasmic charges went off, shearing off another section of the ruined span. Not willing to allow whatever was left fall on him, Zero pushed off of the support, aiming for the river shoreline. He could see small boats full of people watching the spectacle, cowering at the docks, behind whatever was nearby. The debris from the falling bridge and the Rakuhouha blasts pelted them and the waters below, but Zero was convinced he hadn't been given much in the way of options. As another piece of the ruined span crashed into the river, he landed hard on the concrete, rolling twice before righting himself.

"I'll thank you...to never speak her name again." Zero spat, barely able to hear himself over the roar of the falling span. After a moment, he checked his comm channels. Static.

A loud, high pitched whine filled the air. Zero looked up and saw that the two Bladers from earlier had dropped in from above, hovering menacingly in front of him, cannons leveled at him. Floating down gently between the two was the ride armor, looking none the worse for wear. The Hunter admitted to himself that the machine was very impressive, and not exactly something he was enjoying being on the receiving end of. He could not tell how it was able to remain suspended in mid-air, which let him assume that it used a type of anti-gravity system.

"Iris." Vile laughed. "There, I said it. What now, Red?" The autocannon it wielded took aim at Zero. "Iris Iris Iris IRIS! IRIS! WHAT NOW, ZERO? WHAT NOW?"

Zero threw his third and final Rakuhouha at his opponent's face. The ride armor, humanoid in design, lifted its free hand, as if to shield itself from the imminent blast, mimicking a very human motion. Before the bright flash completely overloaded his optics, Zero saw one of the Bladers speared by three of the plasma bursts emitted by the charge, falling towards the water. He dashed to his left, back towards the bridge, where hopefully fewer civilians were located. If the ride armor still had that gun, if it had to be pointed at him, he wanted fewer people around him than there had been back on the highway. His eyesight returned, and he pulled himself behind a concrete potter, looking to see if the ride armor had also taken a hit.

It remained unscathed. A spherical barrier flickered violently around it before sputtering out.

"Awwwww Zero, look at you! The big man ABANDONING THE HUMANS!" With that, Vile and the remaining Blader took aim at the boats, people diving into the water or running off onto the docks.

Zero vaulted back over the potter, ignoring the warnings from his internal systems that he was putting too much strain on the dash thrusters. _DON'T YOU DO IT-_

One boat literally disintegrated under a single burst from the autocannon, smoke, flame, a thin red mist in its place, splashes of water and puffs of dirt and concrete from the docks walking a path towards a second boat, the gun tracking through people who never stood a chance of escape in the first place.

In the next moment, the mecha shuddered as a massive bolt of charged plasma tore off the gun and most of the arm holding it with a powerful detonation. It spun with the impact, whirling to face the new threat.

_I knew you weren't out of the running yet. I haven't seen you look this fired up in long time._

The Blue Bomber of 21XX trailed a pillar of flames and steam just inches over the water, clearly having disengaged every safety to his dash thrusters to accomplish the feat, an avenging angel without wings. His buster was raised at the ride armor, white tendrils of energy rippling around it's focusing crystal, his face a mask of fury. He pushed off of the water with another powerful burst from his dash system, moving so fast that it appeared that the ride armor hadn't been able to track him properly. He was practically above it before he unleashed another massive plasma volley. The ride armor managed to slide just past the oncoming shot, and the plasma met the river with a resounding splash of water and steam, partially obscuring the mecha. X rolled once in the air, crashing against a storefront wall, and he dropped down next to Zero with a heavy thud, his buster never wavering from Vile.

"What kept you?" Zero asked.

"...I don't want to talk about it."

In the skies he saw Gavin and Doan, both of whom equipped in their flight capable armor. Flanking them were elements from the 21st Lightning Strike unit. _Better late than never, even an EM barrier won't stop them._ They had the bastards outnumbered and surrounded now.

"Hello X." Vile said from within the damaged mecha. "You can accuse me of all kinds of things, but you can't say I don't live up to my promises. Ready to die, Blue?"

"Vile." X glared coldly.

Zero knew that X was no fighter by choice, a B rank officially. It had taken awful things to make him choose the path of Hunter, things he had tried to put behind him. He hadn't said anything specific, but Zero knew that his blue friend had seen something that crossed an unspoken line somewhere within his electronic brain.

"That's what I wanna see. Oh X, if you could see the look on your face. It's...perfect. I could lose today, and not care. This is what I wanna see!" Vile's ride armor gestured to the victims of his attack. "What did you expect, how else was I gonna get you to crawl out of your safe little headquarters, eh? Hope your playmates up there have got talent, I want batting them aside when I'm tearing my way to you to be that much more thrilling!"

The eight 'prongs' folded forward into two distinct cylindrical formations on the mecha's shoulders, a high pitched hum accompanied by a storm of energy coalescing at their center, pointing at the incoming 21st. Gavin and Doan split away from one another as a pair white beams lanced into the sky, missing them but killing an unlucky Hunter before he could even react. Simultaneously, the remaining Blader was joined by another of its kind, engaging the new Hunters with beam weapons and unleashing a spate of missiles into the air.

Zero rushed at the mecha, beam saber alight. X fired rapid bursts of plasma that Vile either dodged or managed to take without significant damage, keeping him busy enough that it prevented another shot from the shoulder cannons.

The battle was joined.

**MHHQ  
9:00 AM**

It was roughly sixty miles away from the New Tokyo Memorial Bridge, but it was still possible to have heard the initial explosion that destroyed it by those not buried deep within MHHQ. Because of that, word had gotten around quickly, much quicker than Signas would have liked. He had some of his best hunters already in the field, and he did not like to enforce standby orders.

The data that Solar Falcon had brought in had been more disturbing to Signas than he'd been letting on. It suggested a level of information manipulation that threatened every known security standard on the planet, as far as he was concerned. The 2nd RSF refused to die, through its deeds, and the sudden fascination it inspired in the civilian world. Coupled with the fact that he now knew there was a lot more going on at the bridge than the initial reports had let on. There had been no time for a press black out, it was already international news, a Maverick attack currently on going in Japan, unknown numbers of dead and injured. Hunters shooting it out with an unidentified armored unit and what appeared to be a discontinued Type 16 Mitsubachi. He could not contact any of the hunters currently in the action, due to localized interference.

Falcon never had his entire armament removed. His buster, his plasma emitters by his talons, the hardpoints on his wings for heavier weapons, all had been sealed by physical means, which needed an electronic bypass to remove and restore the soldier to full function. The bypass required clearance from the reploid physician assigned to Falcon's file after he'd left the JSDF. Lifesaver had agreed with Signas that they could always get that clearance after the fact, but the process of physically disconnecting the various safety blocks around plasma emitters and the internalized buster components would take time. Various access panels were removed from Falcon's body, and the sensation of air passing through a frame that was typically atmospherically sealed was unsettling.

For the moment, Signas felt more like an observer of events, than one who participated in them, and it angered him, though he would never show this. He'd committed good Hunters to a mission, giving them as much intelligence as he could have gathered, but he had no way to assist them beyond sending more forces.

What was bothering him were news reports he was receiving. Scenes of New York city flashed through his electronic mind, reporters detailing a sudden fire fight that erupted near Times Square. A building, gutted by fire and explosions, fire fighters struggling to remain in control of a rapidly worsening blaze. Hunters running around, shouting for Lifesavers or combat medics. The Commander of New York Maverick Hunters, missing an arm and a good portion of his chest, making grim faced statements. New York MHHQ, destroyed. The 99th and 63rd in shambles, a mere third of their number remaining. Local MSWAT suffering heavy casualties in Times Square before resolving the situation alongside of reinforcements from other regional sub-command Hunter units.

The building rattled violently, the lights flickering, some dying out altogether. Emergency power had kicked in, casting a pale orange glow over everything. All at once, his external network connections died.

_You've planned this very well, where ever you are,_ Signas thought bitterly.

"What the hell was that?" Falcon asked, sitting up from his maintenance bed, almost flattening Lifesaver with his wings as he did.

"We have two physical breeches in this building. The wireless data network is being jammed. Points of entry: the Command Center, and Security Entrance C." Signas normally maintaining a neutral expression, but he now showed the barest hints of restrained fury. "According to reports received just before I lost the network, New York was attacked by Mavericks, and the North American MHHQ branch has been destroyed."

"How can that have happened so quickly without us knowing?" Lifesaver demanded. He was about to say something else when it dawned upon him. "They can't possibly have taken down the information net and executed the attack that quickly!"

Signas pointed at Falcon. "You. Get to the isolated data servers on this floor. Take Lifesaver with you. You need his security clearance, and I need him to bring you up to combat readiness. I would go, but I need to find as many Hunters as possible and coordinate a proper defense from positions deeper within headquarters. Assume that the command center and security entrances are lost, for the moment."

"Right but-" the medic began to interject, but held off after a sharp glance from the commander.

"The enemy has split our forces, occupying the lead elements of the 21st in the city, while striking here. I can no longer contact any other Hunters through the network. An effective siege. I imagine the enemy in the city is electronically isolating the deployed Hunters as well. They may have no idea that we are under attack, no idea that we've completely lost the connection to the geosynchronous surveillance data network."

"What do you want us to do when we get there?" Lifesaver asked, disbelief clearly evident in his voice. "I haven't even finished unlocking all of Falcon's combat systems, I assure you I am not equipped for-"

"Continue working on him once you arrive at the location I have specified." Signas cut off the doctor tersely. "I assume the enemy will want the data from that location. Falcon, fortify that room to the best of your ability. If it appears you will not be able to repel them, destroy the servers, deny them the data."

"Understood." Falcon said. "So, I'm hired?"

"Welcome to the Maverick Hunters." With that, Signas walked out of the armory, reaching for a beam foil grip that hung from his waist.

* * *

Not a single Hunter or applicant had expected the large metallic pod to crash into the receiving room, where said applicants waited to be given an inspection before being assigned to a training platoon. By some miracle, no one had been outright crushed by the falling object. A few Hunters aimed busters at the black mass, others helped wounded to their feet. Smoke rose from its top, the smell of rocket propellent filling the room. Lighting was down, but restored a moment later, but the smoke and dust filled air made visibility a problem. They could make out guidance fins, a single hatch, but no view ports to help them see inside of the unit. Despite the crash, it showed up surprisingly cold on infrared scans save for where rockets were mounted.

"Commander Signas, something just hit Security Entrance C." One Hunter spoke into his helmet mounted comm. He only received static in return, and he grimaced at that. "Comms are down, security wheel around that thing, now. Get these applicants out of here." He looked up to the roof of the building, through the hole it had made on the way down. _Damn, military grade drop pod for sure...what the hell is going on?_

"Woli, Comms ain't all that's down. I can't warp in my armor." Another hunter called out to the first. There was a smattering of agreement throughout the room. The only people who had their combat armor equipped had it well before the pod had landed.

_If that's the case, all warp function is out for the time being._ Woli frowned at the buster that had been his right hand, feeling rather insignificant. _Is the pod generating an EM field?_

A shadow passed over the hole in the roof, accompanied by the whine of heavy repulsor lift drives and conventional jet engines. The room shook again, not as bad as before.

"Come on people, get a move on!" Woli shouted, waving for others to follow. He checked the drop pod once more, then turned to face the exit, just in time to see a Type 19 Mitsubatchi lowering itself into his view from above, its chin mounted guns swiveling about, selecting targets.

The Hunter never had a chance to cry out in warning, having only a second to admire the menacing shape of the Type 19 before he became the first to die in the ensuing barrage. Alternating between chain gun and beam cannon, the Bee Blader did not stop firing for the next minute, careful to shoot around the pod in the center of the room, adjusting its position in the air to gain a better angle on some targets. Some Hunters tried to push the civilians to some form of cover, others tried to shoot back. The floor grew slick with the blood of humans and reploids, walls and other pieces of cover melting away under the heavy fire. After that minute, the guns fell silent, only the roar of the engines on board the mechaniloid filled the air.

Satisfied that no further movement was detected, the Blader pulled back, gaining altitude and circled MHHQ, waiting. A moment later, it spied an armored bay door sliding open, and dove back down, scanning for new threats inside the hardened structure.

* * *

Nana blinked awake, having been thrown from her seat from...something.

She rose from the cool floor, feeling sluggish as though she'd just awakened from a lengthy stasis. A warning window indicated that her fall had caused cranial trauma and warranted an emergency reboot. She could remember losing contact with the surveillance net before her memory blanked out, and felt panic building up within her. There were Hunters in combat without any realtime intelligence support, the thing she and her colleagues were responsible for.

"Get your buster out and keep your eyes on that black thing against the far wall." Rika hissed. She was next to Nana, pulling her upright before kneeling down behind a desk for cover. The navigators were fanned around their small work space, but the real damage had been done in the main control center adjacent to them.

"What hit us? How long have I been out?"Smoke filled the control deck, shafts of light cutting through it from various sources, illuminating a black pod that had crashed through the glass walls of the Navigator Operations room, impacting the wall opposite from her. She could hear the coughs of humans who were caught in the smoke, shouts for help. Shaking with fear, Nana allowed her right hand to convert into its buster form, aiming it tentatively at the black pod.

"No idea." Rika answered. "It came through the roof just above you. I thought you were-"

A bright flash overloaded Nana's optics. She heard Rika scream with fright, and felt her friend throw herself against Nana and into the ground. Her audio receptors were filled with a a high pitched ringing, and a warning window indicated that they had been overloaded. Over the singular ringing sound, she thought she heard Rika shouting for her to stay down, but she could not be certain.

Unable to do a thing, Nana pressed herself against the ground, blind and nearly deaf, and found religion. The room quaked all around her, and she hoped it would stop soon.

* * *

Guernica had been in the vehicle bay, having already picked up his mag-rifle from the armory, arriving late to MHHQ as he'd been off duty. When the emergency call had gone out to deploy the 21st, he had already been making his way back to base. It was impossible to not have noticed the blast that had taken out the bridge and the news that followed.

"She's fueled up and good to go!" Cleo, the 'golden girl' of the Special Vehicles and Equipment section, shouted over the growl of the Ride Chaser. "Get some for us, will you?"

"You bet!" he called back, preparing to launch the Chaser out of the open bay. Which was when the base rattled around them like a chew toy caught in the mouth of a puppy.

Despite the overall steady roar of the vehicle bay preparing for deployments, the distant, muted sounds of automatic weapons fire, plasma busters, and explosions were unmistakeable. Instantly, Guernica checked his comms, trying to find out what was going on, but was unable to connect to anyone outside of the bay. More accurately, anyone beyond a hundred feet without obstruction was inaccessible to his system. He could see the confusion on people's faces. Cleo exchanged a glance with him, full of shock.

"I think we're-"

A single Bee Blader swung into view at the center of the bay doors, cutting her off. Small pods hung from its side, dozens of tips catching the sun, glinting ominously as it hovered there. The growl of the chin mounted autocannon spinning up stood out above all else. Hunters and technicians either moved for cover or brought their buster to bear. To his right, Cleo stood stock still, paralyzed by fear, her eyes wide as saucers. Then came the sound of the autocannon firing, a basso droning noise punctuated by shouts and screams. Armor piercers mixed with high explosive rounds ripping through armor and synthskin with calculated, powerful bursts aimed to disable ride armor, or kill groups of personnel.

To Guernica, time seemed to slow down as he reached for his mag rifle, slipping into the calm facade that came naturally to him now. He could feel the individual stabilizers that governed the steadiness of his arms come into play as the rifle came to bear. He could feel the joints locking into place, each individual finger wrapping around the rifle grip, index finger resting on the trigger. His right eye stared down the electronic scope, the sight bobbing into place somewhere dead center on the 'face' of the mechaniloid. He could see the autocannon shifting its aim towards him as he pulled the trigger, the green 'eyes' on the mechaniloid shattering from the heavy tungsten-depleted energen tipped round. The machine shuddered from the impact, the chin mounted gun knocked upwards, a dozen rounds passing just over Guernica's head, thrown off by his shot. He blinked.

The Blader had lost its primary optics, but it wasn't out of the fight yet. Stabilizing itself, the mechaniloid unleashed a spread of missiles into the bay, the smoke trails temporarily obscuring it. Simultaneously, it brought its cannon to bear once more in his direction, using its back up cameras to single out the sniper.

_Move-_

Guernica slapped the throttle on the Chaser forward, leaping off of it and into Cleo, activating his dash systems, racing for anything that resembled cover while she screamed for her life, explosions all around them. He never took his eyes off of the Blader, watching with a sense of morbid fascination as chunks of concrete and steel were ripped from the ground on a path directed towards him and Cleo. At the periphery of his vision, he could see some Hunters drawing their own weapons and firing back, not that it mattered to him at this point. With rounds landing merely three feet away, he shoved the golden reploid away from him, hoping to buy her some time.

A terrible series of jolts threw him through several work benches and into a half assembled ride armor, and she slid into a far wall head first.

He gasped, wracked with agony unlike any he'd ever been subjected to in his career as a Hunter. Through his daze, he managed to see Cleo shakily prop herself up, and fall back down to the ground, holding her head in pain. Warning messages obscured most of his vision, giving him the bad news.

**Alert! Right Leg Not Present, Left Leg inoperable, Motor Functions severely impaired, Armor Penetration detected in right torso, internal operations energy at 23 percent, overall frame integrity below operational standards, auto stasis in ten seconds.**

_**OVERRIDE!**_

**Seek immediate emergency maintenance. Auto stasis overridden.**

Only seconds had passed, and he was already incapacitated, only upright because he was hanging from a dent in the side of a ride armor that he had made. The pain was so intense that he tried to shut off his pain receptors, barely able to remain in full control of his facilities. The commands to do so were not working, which implied more serious problems in his systems. Through static obscured vision he watched his Ride Chaser streak forward, much faster than it would have had he been aboard. He'd aimed it well, but he had to provide it a distraction. As furious as he was, the sniper felt that whatever happened next would be the last thing he'd do, as far as this fight was concerned.

Guernica had managed to keep a hold of his rifle. He had time for maybe one more shot, if he was lucky. He lifted the rifle up, feeling painfully slow, his arm giving him frantic warnings that severe damage had compromised its ability to simply hold onto the heavy weapon. He couldn't even raise the scope to his eyes. When he tried the wireless link between the scope and his own optics, he got nothing but an error window. He would have to fire literally from the hip.

_Bottom of the ninth, bases loaded, down by one, two strikes, two outs-_

The recoil from his second and final shot of the attack shattered his right shoulder, and the rifle fell to the floor with whatever was left of the limb with a wet and metallic thud. It had been an excellent shot, ripping one of the missile pods cleanly off, secondary explosions almost managing to roll the Blader on its side.

The Blader had been firing upon other Hunters, stopping only to direct its attention to the oncoming Ride Chaser. The chin mounted guns shifted aim back and forth between the bike and Guernica, the on board AI trying to decide what presented a greater threat, and that moment of indecision sealed its fate. The Chaser hit within a second of the shot impact, the Blader crumpling horribly from the crash, pushed back in the air uncontrollably as the systems dedicated to stability were lost. A number of surviving hunters added plasma and mag rounds to the mess until it came apart, spewing flame and debris in every direction, 'safely' outside of the bay.

"Take that." Guernica coughed out, tasting his reploid blood now as his body weight pulled him free of the the armor he'd been embedded in, falling face first to the floor in a heap. He could hear fires raging behind him. The building felt as though it rumbled all around him. _God, how bad are we getting hit? How'd we get caught with our pants down like this?_

"SEAL THE DOORS! NOW NOW NOW!" Cleo was shouting, limping away from the wall she'd been thrown into, her golden armor scuffed all over. A member of the 0 unit dashed over to a wall panel, and within seconds, the armored hangar doors slammed shut. "GUERNICA!" She limped faster now towards the fallen Hunter. "SOMEONE PUT OUT THESE GODDAMNED FIRES!" Reaching him, she knelt down next to the sniper, holding back tears.

"It's not that bad, is it?" Guernica managed to laugh, pushing himself over onto his back.

"Shut up and don't talk. You're lucky you didn't get your core pierced or nobody would be here right now." She sniffled once. "I'm going to move you away from this part of the bay, okay?" He nodded in reply, and she lifted him up by his good arm, holding it over her shoulder to support him on his remaining leg. "You saved me. I'm gonna tell Doan about this, we're gonna buy you a million drinks, anything you want, you hear me? We'll fix you up, okay?"

"I'll hold you to that." Guernica looked around the bay as best he could, and could not help but shiver with the anger he felt in that moment.

Moments before, it had been in perfect order. Busy, but in order. It was a war zone now.

Already, he could see over a dozen casualties, pieces of reploids scattered around different parts of the bay. He suspected that when all of this was over, there would be desperate need to fill new vacancies. Flame retardant foam was being sprayed on shattered ride armors by those who were still able to move under their own power. By some miracle, ordinance and fuel stores had escaped serious damage from the rocket barrage, being hardened just for this type of emergency, but the offices at the very back of the hanger were completely gone, fires consuming what wasn't blasted to pieces outright. A portion of the roof had collapsed, blocking off an exit to other parts of the base, and the main elevator had been struck by rockets, rendering it unusable.

"My...everything...everything is gone... My schematics, my pictures, all of it..." Cleo sobbed.

"I can't reach anyone. There's a fight going on in the city, and now there's one here. We're not out of the game yet." Guernica whispered through clenched teeth. _God this hurts._

**Caution! E-tank leak detected! Motor functions disabled to preserve function, IOE at 4 percent, program loss imminent! Stasis recommended, confirm Y/N?**

"Shut up already!" She cried. "Go into stasis or you _will_ die!"

"Sure thing...a nap sounds...nice." He managed to smile before the glow left his eyes and his body relaxed, resting limply in her arms.

* * *

Adam had stepped out of the pod, Bernard to his left, weapons raised, scanning the room. He surmised that his navigation during the final descent had been solid, and had put them in the primary command center. They could see at least twenty reploid staff hiding as best they could throughout the room, some still under the effects of the incapacitating flashbang armor panels on the drop pod.

"For Lord Sigma." Adam said, leveling his belt fed mag-rifle at the head of a female reploid. Pretty, green haired, her blue eyes wide and unblinking, probably had never seen a minute of real combat herself. Shame. She was so frightened that she could not even beg for mercy. Her head bursting wide open was louder than the actual shot, blood splashing against his boots.

That was when the shrieks began. Some ran for one of the elevators, others stayed curled behind instrumentation. A few brave souls raised their busters at the two Mavericks. In the end they all died, blown to pieces by concentrated fire from magnetically accelerated slugs, cut down by streams of plasma from their finger tips, slagged by the shoulder cannons. Even after resistance had ended, they did not stop firing, turning much of the equipment in the room into scrap metal. After a short eternity, they stopped firing, the room dead save for the occasional spark of electricity, the clatter of falling paneling, the occasional pane of glass giving way.

"Clear." Bernard muttered.

"Butcher Three, Four?"

"Security Entrance C is clear. No survivors. We lost the Mitsubatchi, last transmission indicates heavy resistance in the vehicles bay. Continuing to clear lower level, estimate thirty kills on Hunters total, civilian deaths confirmed but unable to determine exact numbers. Resistance is getting thick."

"Plan is unchanged. Regroup on the second floor, if possible. The target location is their Isolated Data Center. If the target in unreachable, detonate the pods, and exfiltrate by any means available."

Stepping over dead reploids, humans, or parts of them, the two made their way to the elevator, held open by the body of another female type reploid. Kicking the body aside, they entered. A polite beep marked their boarding, and the door slid shut behind them.

* * *

Nana stood up from the floor, unscathed, her optics and audio pickups long recovered from the initial flashbang effect the pod had emitted. She looked around her, seeing what was left of her co-workers. Lying next to Nana was Rika, broken in half at the waist, eyes dulled, expression frozen in shock, her arms reaching towards something, someone. The top of her head was blown wide open, her control chip unrecoverable. She was as dead as a reploid could be.

Nana sobbed, realizing that she'd was covered in blood, and that it likely belonged to Rika and the other reploid navigators she had worked alongside. Picking up the ruined body of her friend, she hugged it tightly to her own, beside herself with grief, unable to even say her name.

She was alive because she likely looked as dead as the rest by some miracle, her cowardly shivering on the ground might have appeared to be the final death spasms of a reploid undergoing total program loss. Perhaps she'd just been lucky. Perhaps they had wanted a survivor. Someone to tell the tale of the demons in black armor that slaughtered everyone in their path.

_Nononononono I can't be the only one left._

Nana wanted, more than anything, to be somewhere else. Anywhere else. The smell of reploid blood around her made her feel sick. She was frightened, and couldn't stop the shakes that wracked her body, her lightly armored frame making an incessant rattle against Rika's corpse.

Something kept Nana from curling into a ball next to her friend when everything seemed lost, something that managed to keep her focused.

She'd heard them speak. She knew what they were planning. She carefully set Rika down, and brushed a hand across her stilled face, shutting her eyes for the final time.

With the comm net down, she'd need access to something on a hardline. The consoles she and the other, less fortunate Navigators were assigned to, had seen far less damage than the rest of the equipment. Ripping open an access panel, Nana's shaking hands began to dig through the data cables, looking for a specific plug. Everything she'd seen, all that she knew, needed to get to Commander Signas, somehow. If he was still alive, he was hopefully trying to regain access to the physical network.

It was difficult to work through the tears.

* * *

Carel and Daniel stalked the lower floors methodically. The Hunters were putting up some resistance, but they were isolated without their communications networks available. The drop pods provided a pair of EM fields that ensured the only way people would know something was wrong with MHHQ was to view it with their own eyes, see the smoke rising from it, but nobody inside was going to be phoning for assistance any time soon. Despite their obvious firepower disadvantage, individual Hunters picked their engagements with great skill, and some skilled or lucky ones had managed to link up with others to provide steady, though limited resistance, falling back as best they could, in general making as big a nuisance of themselves as they could.

The two Mavericks were impressed, even in light of how difficult their progress had become. Despite being unable to even call in their heavier armaments, the Hunters fought on. They still sustained casualties here and there, but now that the initial surprise was gone, they had managed to turn the casual slaughter into a real fight.

The enhancements they'd undergone essentially turned them into Vile's likeness in many ways, granting enhanced durability, speed, and firepower, but it was still two against however many Hunters had survived the initial surprise. The corridors were tight enough that it made advancing down them a risky proposition at best, but they couldn't avoid them altogether. They could not afford to hurry, even though time was short on this phase.

The sound of a saber ignition surprised them both. The corridors did not lend themselves to melee combatants, and nearly every Hunter they had come across had used ranged armament in these spaces. Unless they were supremely skilled or designed for it, most reploids did not enjoy running at something that could kill them at two hundred meters before they even blinked.

They were doubly surprised when Daniel screamed as his right arm was sliced cleanly off of his body. The pair dropped back a dozen paces, weapons at the ready, and they caught sight of a large figure rushing past them from a side corridor, a blue beam foil in hand. More plasma fire filled the air, and the two Mavericks were forced to kick down a security door on their left and dive in before they were overwhelmed.

Carel had gone in first, firing as he moved. The rounds shredded through data servers, through workstations, stacks of hard copy paper work. Tables were overturned, lights shattered, walls riddled with holes, but no Hunters were to be found inside. Daniel barged in behind him, forced to abandon his arm and mag-rifle in the corridor. His finger tip guns would have to suffice.

The pair did not waste any time preparing a defense. They detached their shoulder cannons and mounted them as sentry guns, having overlapping fields of fire from the walls of room. It gave them defenses for the entrance they had come from some form of defenses. They kicked over desks to prepare them as barricades, though their real value would be in providing numerous places for them to strike from, as opposed to stopping plasma or mag-rounds. There was the possibility that the Hunters would try to make new entrances with shaped charges, but that ran the risk of giving the Mavericks a 'hole' to warp out through. Other than the EM barrier from the pods that were scrambling the warp network for miles around, the walls themselves had specialized materials that were designed to prevent unwanted guests from simply transferring in and out of a location unannounced. A fairly standard GDC security measure used in most structures they had interest in.

Detonating the drop pods wouldn't be enough. They'd have to fight their way out, if possible.

_What the hell was that?_

_I caught it, Daniel. It was a commander class. I didn't get a face, but the design should be familiar._

_Didn't think they'd use a Repliforce model in the Hunters._

_He wasn't Repliforce, pretty sure-_

"You do not belong in my facility" A voice rumbled from an overhead speaker, which actually startled the pair. "I will give you credit, this attack was executed in perfect concert with the assault in New York. You've managed to draw away one of my units, including X and Zero. Consider yourselves fortunate in that regard. You've managed to cut everyone off from the wireless data network that courses through this facility, and your allies, of whom I was informed by a survivor of their attack, are proceeding rapidly towards what I assume is your primary objective. You should know that your allies in New York, despite their resounding success, are quite dead. I managed to garner that much before the devices you used to disrupt our wireless network went into action. You have surprised us, wounded us. But we are not dead. Your time in this world grows ever fleeting."

The Mavericks did not reply in words. They merely readied their own weapons, advancing further into the room, back to back. On monitors that had survived their entry, the face a reploid spoke to them.

_That was him,_ Daniel thought. _That's the one that got my arm. _

"I am Commander Signas, Head of the Maverick Hunters. I will not entertain you with fanciful requests to surrender, we can learn everything we need from your corpses. I merely thought you should know who has ordered your retirement."

**Downtown New Tokyo  
9:12 AM**

Through the streets of the city, men in blue and red chased a demon clad in white.

Vile was on the run.

He did not do so out of fear. As much as the thought would have entertained the Hunters pursuing him on the ground and in the air, he was hardly afraid of them. The crowded downtown New Tokyo provided him much in the way of 'external offensive options'. The modern family vehicle, for instance, did not weight much, and even with one arm, the Cerberus ride armor was more than capable of throwing them at the closest of his ground pursuers.

X deduced that the EM barrier that had prevented warp ins for reinforcements was centered around the ride armor itself. This, combined with his rampage through commercial districts of the city, made pursuit difficult. As much as he would have liked to unleash the full strength of his buster, there were innocent lives at stake, and Vile was being sure to shield himself with anything that could interfere. A part of him felt bitter towards the JSDF. They'd made this monster what it was, and now he was on the receiving end of it. Still, they were wearing it down. It lost one of the plasma cannons on the shoulders during the initial pursuit, and that had somehow been connected with its drive systems. It wasn't skating around the streets with nearly the same speed it possessed when he'd first engaged it. They were wearing it down.

Zero dashed ahead of him, ducking under a flying street lamp, X leaping over it. The ride armor had spun to a halt to grab another lamp as the two Hunters closed in. Zero lashed out with his beam saber in response, severing the lamp in half, a second slash bringing him in closer, and taking off the remaining hand of the mecha. Vile cursed loudly, aiming the armor's final shoulder canon at the Hunter just as X unleashed his own shot while still in mid-leap, hitting the weapon dead on. X's super shot buried itself into the street, thankfully away from the many fleeing bystanders. Whirling with the blow, the ride armor managed to evade Zero's third swipe, batting him aside with his arm stump into a bus. X landed just short of the range of its remaining arm, another charged shot readied.

"_YOU. LITTLE. SHIT!"_ Vile howled.

The chest plating split in half as Vile streaked out of the cockpit, screaming furiously, reaching towards X as he fired. A bright flash engulfed the ride armor, the Maverick and the Hunter all at once.

* * *

The 21st did what it could from the air, but were also facing a determined attack from the two Mitsubatchi. They did not know that these were the last two that the Mavericks had available, but they did know they packed significantly more firepower than older models, and much like Vile, they stayed low to the ground, involving civilians as often as possible.

This was about to change.

Gavin flew low, spiraling around a series of blasts from bombs the Bee Blader he was pursuing had been dropping in its wake. It was out of autocannon ammunition, but that still left it with bombs, anti-tank rockets, and the beam cannon that had claimed six of his people over the course of this madness. He'd take any advantage over the thing that he could.

Doan cut in from above and in front of the Blader, his green beam lance brushing against its 'face' as it corrected its course, adjusted its speed, dancing awkwardly out of range of the killing strike. Slowing it down just enough for Gavin. He dove in, putting as much power into his flight pack as the systems allowed, orange beam saber in one hand, a roar issuing from within as he bore down above the fleeing machine. He reached for a second beam saber. This one had been a gift, and out of reverence for the man who had bestowed it upon him, Gavin did not like to use it very often, it already had seen much during its life.

Despite the assurances of the previous wielder, Gavin never felt as able a leader as others said he was. He did not feel right using Bastion's beam saber. Even now, he was second guessing himself, wondering if he could have saved the people who'd died under his command today. If there were something he could have done differently.

Gavin lashed out, purple and orange arcs of plasma aimed at the 'abdomen' of the Blader, severing it in half. Most of the unit's anti-gravity systems were located there, most of its fuel cells. It yawed violently from secondary explosions, losing speed and altitude quickly.

Doan flew back in from below, squeezing every erg of power from his flight armor, stabbing the beam lance into flying corpse as deep as he could, lifting it away from the streets as best he could before tearing the lance out its side, falling back a safe distance and leveling a buster at it. Gavin was at his side in an instant, his sabers in their charging sheaths, his own buster primed alongside of Doan's.

The resulting wave of plasma they unleashed left next nothing that could be recognized by any clean up crew. The blue-white energy shots climbed into the morning sky, fading from sight.

"That's one." Doan remarked.

* * *

Jad felt embarrassed at his current state.

He admitted to himself this was his fault. Had he given the final Blader the respect it warranted, he'd still be in the air. Maybe flying for his life as opposed to running, but flying was faster than running, and he'd learned to appreciate the maneuverability the Air Superiority armor gave him, when it worked.

He decided he owed the mechaniloid the chase of a lifetime, leaping from rooftop to rooftop. He would flatly deny it if accused, but when his life was on the line, he doubted there was a better sensation than the wind against his face and the build up of excess heat throughout his internal systems. While years of experience had wizened him a little bit, he still found himself taking risks for fun and little else. The charm of pushing his limits would not fade any time soon.

_Man, I hope this really isn't how it all ends. There are a buncha people on the other side who warned me about me, telling me how I'm gonna get myself killed someday. No way I wanna give those guys their jollies just yet._

The Bladers that had accompanied the Ride Armor were far better armed than their older cousins from the first Rebellion, and that had cost Jad his ability to fly. Rather than turning to face him as he had tried to rush in from the side, the pair of hexagonal missile pods that hung from the side of the mechaniloid had suddenly jettisoned free of the Blader's fuselage, and darted off in separate directions, shooting rockets in small groups at Hunters. The pods themselves had the advantage of being small and devilishly maneuverable, and they kept people on their toes. Before he could react, he found himself staring a rocket in the face. It was a last second reaction that allowed him to take the brunt of the attack in his flight pack, dropping him towards the city below mostly whole. The proximity fuse on the warhead, combined with his reflexes, had saved him from instant death

Jad was still shrugging off pieces of his heavy armor as he sprinted across buildings, unable to get a clean recall signal with HQ, he figured they could always collect what he dropped behind him later. He needed speed more than anything. Kol and several other members of the 21st were trying to keep the Blader from advancing into areas where civilians were evacuating, a difficult thing to accomplish in the air, but they tried. Other members of the unit, if they were still in the fight, were helping local police units evacuate citizens as quickly as possible, while providing desperately needed firepower in the event more Mavericks came to the party. The roaming missile pods found other targets, the grounded Hunter apparently not considered a priority.

The Blader was a few hundred feet away, and backing towards him, having suffered continued abuse from the defenders. It's missile pods swatted at Hunters less frequently, running low on ammunition.

Jad soared to another rooftop, keeping the Blader targeted. There was no real way to predict with certainty where it would juke to next. His HUD had the ability to display potential directions a subject could take based on the positioning of control surfaces, verniers bursts, gravitic field surges, among hundreds of different movements systems that could throw off incoming fire. It was enough to make the next step easier.

The Blader rapidly backed away from Kol as the teal Hunter made an attempt on its 'head' with his beam saber. He managed to take off the chin mounted guns instead, one less thing to worry about. It's momentum pushed it just overhead of Jad. Foot thrusters protesting the sudden demands placed upon them, Jad shot straight up like a rocket, his buster outstretched and charging, puncturing through a gash from an earlier miss near its belly.

"CLEAR OUT!" Jad shouted in warning to the other Hunters, triggering a cataclysmic plasma burst from his weapon, consuming everything in its path, ripping out through the dorsal armor on the mechaniloid. He felt himself get thrown back down towards the roof he'd leapt from, landing hard on his back and forming a small crater on impact.

He didn't see the rest of the kill play out, the explosion prompting him to shield his eyes. Elsewhere, the missile pods fell lifelessly to the city streets. For now, the air threat had been dealt with.

"Holy shit!" One Hunter exclaimed.

"Show us how it's done, Jad!" Another called out.

Landing next to him, Kol reached down and pulled him to his feat.

"Nice work on those guns, Kol." Jad smirked.

"Nice work getting shot down right away. You reckless idiot." Kol slapped Jad across the back of his head. "Can you get a back up armor set from HQ?"

"I'd have one by now. Jamming is still up, looks like. Lets rendezvous with Gav's element. Thanks for hitting me, by the way. Really appreciate it."

"I'm just tryin' to impart wisdom, my friend." With that, Kol grabbed on one of Jad's arms, and picked him up off the roof.

* * *

"Nice work 21st!" Gavin pumped a fist in victory, watching as the remaining Blader that harried the rest of his unit finally met its demise. Reflexively, he called in to HQ to report in, only remembering after hearing the static that the ride armor was likely the source of the jamming. He flew up to the top of a nearby structure, and shouted for members of the 21st to gather around him. Inwardly, he cringed. He'd started the day with forty active members of the unit. Eleven had been retired. Seeing Jad set down next to him, armor cracked and split open in multiple places, his heavier equipment mostly missing, internals partially exposed didn't mesh well with the huge grin plastered across his face.

Jad, one of his closest friends, had nearly been number twelve, and the reality of that felt like a punch to the gut.

_Focus. Get the job done._

Those who were hurt in some way Gavin delegated rescue operations in places where the fighting had caused damage. There was a fairly distinct trail of chaos that led back to the bridge where it all started. A hurt reploid might not be up to handling further action, but from what he could see, most of the wounded could still move heavy debris as a team if needed. He detailed others to continue assisting evacuation efforts. He was left with ten Hunters able to back up Zero and X if they needed it, and with luck, that would be enough.

He wasn't happy with how things were going, but he didn't let it show. He handed out assignments with practiced ease, and his people gave their acknowledgments and moved swiftly.

A distant boom caught Gavin's attention, in the direction of X and Zero's battle.

"Ride armor's down!" Zero shouted over the comm. "Currently in pursuit of Vile!" The line went dead after that.

_And another problem solves itself._ Gavin brought up his menus once more to contact Nana back at base. Poor girl was probably having a fit by now. "HQ, Gavin. Get anything you can safely spare to the coordinates I specify!"

"Gavin!" Doan shouted, pointing to the south.

Looking in the direction Doan was pointing, he saw it. Fires burning, smoke rising from the distinct fortress that was MHHQ. The enormity of what he saw hit with sledgehammer force. The empty static he now heard was not from any form of jamming he was being subjected to.

This had all been a feint. Hundreds, perhaps thousands dead, or injured. Millions of credits in damages. Just to pull the 21st unit away from its base. A goddamned feint.

Doan was already getting a running start to begin flying back.

"CLEO'S IN THERE!"

"DOAN, WAIT!"

**MHHQ  
9:20 AM**

Solar Falcon could feel the familiar rush he once had been addicted to build up within him. His body trembled, knowing that combat was inevitable. In truth, he missed this. He sprinted through the corridors as quickly as he could, knowing that the enemy, which hadn't yet been identified, were closing on his target destination.

"Left! Leftleftleft!" Lifesaver snapped, being yanked through the air behind Falcon as the combat reploid sprinted. The doctor was trying to guide them to the data servers through a route that his audio sensors didn't indicate there was shooting. Grabbing a hold of a chunk of the walls, Falcon swung himself into the corridor Lifesaver had pointed out.

"Now what?"

"STOP! First door on the right! Put me down for the love of-" He was cut off as Solar came to an abrupt halt, and he slammed face first into his back before falling onto his back. "...thank you." Lifesaver lifted himself up from the ground, pushing the new Hunter out of the way, approaching a small input device next to an unmarked gray security door. "IsoDatServ is through here. So, how are we going to fortify this place?"

"I need to you to disable the locks to my wings." Falcon had taken a defensive posture, looking down both direction of the corridor every few seconds, one wing extended forward acting as a shield for the technician. "Is my buster ready to go?"

"First thing I did." Lifesaver punched in a thirty two digit series into the input pad. A beam of light reached out and scanned his body in a single sweep, then emitting a cheerful beep. The door split into four sections and slid open soundlessly.

"I also need to you to remove my three subtanks."

"That's not exactly sewing up a small cut, you understand." Lifesaver quipped as they pushed into the server room, scanning their corners.

"I've made it easy for you." Falcon fought to control his voice as he tore off the remaining armored plating that protected his reactor housing.

"What the hell are you doing?" Lifesaver rushed to catch the reploid as he fell to his knees.

"I'm setting a trap." Falcon hissed through the pain. "I need you...to set my wings against the door. The plasma emission arrays on them will make an effective explosive."

"And your spare tanks?"

"Lodge them between vernier flaps, facing the door. I'll ignite them manually. These Mavericks had enough confidence to attack HQ directly. I'm prepared to put a hole in the side of this building to kill them. Looks like the server clusters are built into the far southern wall, from what I can determine. They'll be mostly safe from the blast, they have static defensive fields and reinforced armor plating. Basic JGSDF protective measures. I could self detonate to take them out at this point, not that I'm considering that at this time." Falcon made a fist with one hand, morphing it into his buster, inspecting it reverently. "Haven't seen you in a while. How goes it, old friend?"

"The security protocols would format the data servers if they tried to force their way in, so they'd have to run a bypass, in turn alerting us that they are here. Clever. This is rather extreme for a new Hunter. Not sure if many people would see it the way you do." Lifesaver helped Falcon sit upright.

"There's no point in being subtle about this. The enemy certainly isn't taking the gentle approach."

"You've disabled the physical connections and have manually deleted the system drivers for these components, yes?"

"Yes."

"Then let's begin." The reploid physician raised his hands toward the exposed components, his fingers splitting into many smaller appendages, small points of light glowing at their tips. The sound of gunfire rang hollowly through the walls of the sealed room. "Hold still. We're going to be cutting this close, from what I can tell. For what it's worth, sorry in advance for any additional discomfort."

"I'm not new to combat, discomfort is a part of the game. Desperate times, after all. So what is in here that's so important that it's isolated from any networks?" Falcon's gaze and buster never stopped monitoring the armored door.

"Medical records, R and D, schematics, classified personnel dossiers, financial records. That's the stuff I have access to, anyway. Mainly, this is a back up of a back up of a back up. Most of it is distributed in other isolated data centers throughout the Hunter establishment. The real juicy stuff was originally privy to Doctor Cain, but Signas has inherited the keys to the kingdom, as it were."

"Doesn't seem like it's worth the effort to break in here. I can think of better macguffins to chase after."

"Well, if we lose it, it's severely inconvenient but recoverable over time. Even if they had gotten here before us, the various security protocols would have turned the data to garbage, but junk data can still be pieced back together, best to not let them have a scrap of it. If they access it, that is definitely worse. I'll leave it at that. Alright, first sub-tank coming out...there!"

"It's also severely inconvenient to have many Hunters get killed." Falcon grunted.

"So why are you going this far? This is quite the first day back in action, at this rate you'll not live long enough to get the medal you're earning for all this. Number two's coming out."

"I have a hunch."

"That's it?"

"Yep."

"That's one of the worst answers I've heard to a question in the last three years I've been in active service. You'll fit in well around here."

* * *

Killing humans and reploids felt the same to Adam, testament to the authenticity of reploids, even feraloids acted much the same as their humanoid counterparts. He watched as Hunters grasped at wounds, doubled over, bleeding vital fluids onto the metal floors before being finished off by the high density magnetically accelerated slugs, or burned down by his plasma weaponry. For the moment, the fighting was stopped, and he could hear the moans of hurting combatants in the corridors behind him and Bernard as they moved quickly towards their destination. The map they were operating from was perfect, derived from building schematics that Nike had hacked from the network back in October. It had been a security oversight, something to be expected from an organization with the bad luck of having the GDC actively meddle in its affairs. Nike's earlier recon of MHHQ had given them inaccurate personnel counts, but that had worked in their favor. There had been fewer Hunters to combat, the result of cutbacks that some argued were long overdue.

A warning on his HUD informed him he was nearly out of ammunition for his mag weapon. Bernard had long since cast his heavy automatic mag rifle aside, relying primarily on the fingertip plasma emitters and the shoulder cannon.

He hadn't heard from Carel or Daniel since they reported that resistance was mounting, somewhat worrying to Adam. The enemy was not stupid or weak, simply off balance. They may have somehow first received word of his two subordinates attack on the security entrance ground floor, which could explain the relative ease of his and Bernard's charge to the objective. The Hunters made the protection of civilians a top priority, and Security Entrance C was where new recruits first reported to, meaning there were plenty of civilians to rescue. Not that there were any to save, but the Hunters likely didn't know that.

Adam looked over his personnel files of serious threats he could have been facing inside MHHQ, and counted himself lucky they hadn't run into Zero Omega or X. The jamming they were using against MHHQ also cut them off from the events in New Tokyo proper. He didn't know that they and the majority of the 21st had been engaged by Vile and his mechaniloids, and he didn't know that things were not going well for Sigma's enigmatic lieutenant.

The commanding General of the Hunters, Signas, was somewhere within the facility, but had yet to be confirmed. Killing him would undoubtedly be a major setback to inflict upon the enemy, but the chances of that didn't look very good.

Out of worry, he tried to raise the other pair over their internalized communications network. An error window was the reply.

**Unable to connect/Personnel not within range or non-responsive.**

_Adam, the objective is 100 meters east of us._

_Assume it is fortified and/or booby-trapped. I can't raise the others._

_They countered our jamming you think? It'd be faster than we expected._

_Possible. We hit their command center pretty hard, but the Hunters are no slouches, we went in heavy for a reason. _

_If we've been compromised?_

_The data is important, but not as important as the message we've sent today._

_So this really is just a kill-op._

_Nike knows what we're getting into._

The only sounds they could hear now was that of their own metal boots against the floor, and the hum of the light fixtures above them. To their left, they could see through windows into the morning sky. The sun was crawling higher in the sky, the blue marred only by cirrus clouds in the upper atmosphere and the smoke rising from the ruined bridge and other parts of the city caught up in Vile's rampage.

It was looking more likely that the jamming had been defeated by the Hunters, which would account for the sudden absence of resistance. They slowed down, trying to silence their footfalls completely. So close to the objective now, honed instincts took over. They could see the security door on the right side of the corridor they were in, facing the barely tinted reinforced transparisteel windows. Reflexively, Adam scanned the relatively calm vista surrounding the building, checking for snipers, noting the that the image curtains systems on the windows hadn't been enabled, allowing him to observe reploid and human survivors from the lower levels setting up an emergency triage for the critically wounded in the parking lot.

_Nothing personal, _thought Adam, and he meant it.

Bernard had taken point, and was closest to the door. He brought up a hand and signaled to stop using their internal communications for the moment, then he made a fist, and opened it several times before pointing at the door.

_Booby trap?_

Adam nodded once at Bernard, who motioned to get behind him. They leveled their weapons at the door now, waiting for the ambush they both expected. Switching to thermal vision, Adam scanned the door and the locked security panel. The number pad showed residual fading thermal contacts. The door itself seemed to be warmer than other parts of the corridor, a large, misshapen orange blob representing something hot on the other side of the door.

Someone had beaten them there.

This had been the one place Nike could not access when she infiltrated MHHQ. Given how the floor they were on had seemingly been abandoned quite suddenly, he realized just how much danger they were in just straying close by. It wasn't safe to even try and bust through quickly. Adam pointed emphatically in the direction they had come from, and they began to fall back. Whatever data was beyond that door was important enough that someone had come here to secure it, and they'd been left to do the task alone.

_Are they that desperate?_

Adam was furious. He'd blundered, but didn't know where or how it had happened. _It was all going so well._

_

* * *

_

Falcon had been propped against the southern wall, back against a server cluster. At his insistence, Lifesaver had hidden behind the cluster Falcon rested against. For agonizing minutes, he sat with his buster pointed at their improvised explosive resting against the sealed door, waiting. The sounds of combat had died away entirely, and now he strained to listen for clues beyond the thick armored walls surrounding the server room. His vision shifted between various detection modes, scanning for anything that could clue him in on a possible attack.

"Falcon. You should take some form of cover." Lifesaver sounded nervous from behind the server cluster. "I'm a doctor, and I just helped a Hunter prepare a mini-nuke. Dear lord."

"It'll be fine. The energy released from within the subtanks will be partially directed away from us by the gravity field generator on my wings."

"Partially? That doesn't really sound like a-" Lifesaver cut himself off, switching to internal comms. _Movement near the door. No ID tags. Are you really going to do this? You're really going to-_

_Keep your head down._ He checked his aim once more, and fired a single plasma shot at one of his sub-tanks resting against the door, and shut his eyes just as a bright light flared up and filled the entire room.

* * *

Adam's own HUD was awash with status warnings, and his external audio pick ups were completely shot, leaving him effectively deaf. He was still in one piece, miraculously, but was unsure how long that would last. He no longer could make use of his shoulder cannon, leaving him with brute strength, the one working dash thruster he had working, and his finger tip plasma busters. His fire control system was reporting a critical error, which meant that he had no redundant system to supplement his CPU during combat until subroutines solved that issue. He didn't have the hour it was predicting it required, however.

He'd been thrown down the corridor violently, and his landing had torn through the floor plating. He looked around, seeing that mostly everything behind him leading to what was the server room was unrecognizable debris, with smoke obscuring much of his vision. Adam's mind was racing, trying to figure out what exactly hit them, trying to establish contact with his two missing comrades on the lower level.

_IED? Remote triggered? Too big for anything normally available to the Hunters. It's more like a partial reactor failure, containment systems mostly took care of the worst of it but... No signs of wounded passerby before the blast-_

_Where's Bernard?_

Bernard lay on his back several feet behind Adam, dragging himself towards his commander, pieces of debris sticking into him at various places, including a piece of rebar that had managed to spear the reploid through the right eye, miraculously avoiding anything vital in his head. Bernard managed to stand up, though the damage he'd taken was enough to expose parts of his 'skeleton', and Adam could see it struggling to keep the whole frame upright. A thick pool of life fluid was forming at the struggling reploid's feet, indicative of potentially mortal injury if he didn't get help soon.

_I'm good! I'm good!_ He was 'shouting' over their internal link as fired blindly into the smoke with his fingertip busters. _Movement, unidentified reploid type, from inside that room! It was a goddamned directed energy charge, the bastard was waiting for us, knew he'd survive it!_ A counter barrage passed over their heads by a wide margin. The trigger man was _still_ able to fight back despite everything, a fact that earned Adam's immediate respect and concern.

If the objective still existed for them to seize, he and Bernard were in no condition to continue the fight. If Hunter reinforcements came now, they were as good as dead.

_Butcher Three, Four, I need that sitrep!_ Adam tried to raise them one more time.

_-Adam, we're cut off- _came the voice of Carel.

_We will come and get you._ Relief was visible on Adam's face._ What the hell has been keeping you-_

_Negative, do not, repeat do not attempt rescue. Daniel has been wounded and we're pinned down by too many Hunters to fight through. We've identified Commander Signas in our vicinity. We will hold him and his reinforcements here as long as we can. Get that data._

_That isn't possible-_

_Then detonate the pods and get out of here. We've bloodied their noses, it'll have to be enough. Good luck, brother. Sorry to make you do this. We knew the risks._

A pair of icons on his HUD told him a moment later that both Carel and Daniel had disconnected themselves from their secure network.

"GODDAMNIT!" Adam shouted, punching a fist through the floor plating. Reluctantly, he brought up a command menu for both pods, and set their self destruct systems for ten seconds. _Bernard, we are leaving!_

_What about-_

_They're unable to link up with us._

* * *

Doan kept opening his warp menu every few seconds, praying that he would find that he could plant himself safely much closer to MHHQ. He tried repeatedly to raise anyone at the place, and got nothing. He tried his private line to Cleo, and got the same results. Trailing close by were Gavin and Kol. They had detailed Jad and the remainder of the 21st to securing the situation in New Tokyo, and to lend assistance to X and Zero if they called for it, and then went after the distraught Doan. They'd been trying to get his attention for the last few minutes, but he hadn't so much as glanced over his shoulder to acknowledge them. His eyes remained firmly locked onto HQ, fists tightly clenched, his flight armor straining under the demands of the user.

They were ten miles out when a detonation tore a gouge out the northern side of the structure. In the distance, they could make out the shards of reinforced glass sparkling in the morning sun falling down from that entire side of the building, concrete and rebar raining down on the parking lot and parade grounds. A second and third detonation ripped apart the top floor command center and one of the ground floor security wings moments later. Their eyes caught everything with perfect clarity.

As the EM field mysteriously vanished, the information that had been suppressed for so long rushed into their vision. ID tags for hundreds of personnel flooded their HUDs, their locations marked around the building.

Gavin's eyes zoomed in on what remained of the command center, and saw what looked like a female type reploid clinging for her life by a badly bent window brace, in very dire straights.

"My God." Gavin whispered.

Doan vanished in a bolt of silver light without another word. Gavin and Kol followed a moment later.

* * *

**Your help with the local area network is appreciated, Nana.**

The text flashed across her HUD, and Nana sighed with relief. **Just doing my job sir,** she sent back.

Nana had managed to hook up to to the data net physically while trying to restore its total functionality. She had been mostly unsuccessful, but had managed to open a direct link to Signas after some very creative hacking. The audacity of the attack still wracked her mind, but managing to get a hold of the commander calmed her down somewhat, even if the conversation was limited to visualized text on her HUD. Apparently he and a contingent of Hunters were successful in pinning down another pair of attackers who had struck one of the security entrances, but were unable to apprehend or retire either one.

The first explosion that had taken her by surprise.

**My contingency plan, **Signas explained.** Nana, your next objective is to see if there is anything that can be done about the EM barrier, that is a serious detriment to my ability to coordinate wireless data and communications with the rest of the Hunters. If that isn't possible, evacuate the command center.**

She was in the midst of disconnecting the various cables she'd plugged into the ports located on the back of her head and along her spine when the black landing pod emitted a high pitched whine.

Nana didn't hear the next explosion so much as she felt it. A warning window helpfully explained that her motor functions had become severely impaired as she was thrown towards the shattered window. Behind her, much of the command center, already bullet riddled, simply ceased to be, vanishing in flame and huge, roiling clouds of dust. She felt herself scream, but couldn't hear it, arms flailing as she flew through the air. One hand managed to grab a hold of a window frame, her weight combined with the speed of her flight causing it to snap in half, and bend precariously over thin air outside of the small office she once worked in. Debris and smoke blew just over her head, and the frame dipped further towards the ground, threatening to give out completely. Further warnings indicated that the hand she was holding on with was suffering severe stress related damages, and was compounded by bits of shattered transparisteel digging deeply into the synthskin around her fingers.

It was then, as she struggled to pull herself to safety, that she looked down and noticed her legs were gone, along with a portion of her lower torso.

"Help me..." she whimpered, feeling the shakes come back, which made the piece of frame she held onto bend further downward. She felt her hand grip slip more, warning windows indicating possible stress related failures in her arms. She tried to pull herself up once more, and felt her shoulders simply fail, arms going slack, her grip diminishing. She felt her strength leaving her rapidly, and she could feel the warmth of her internal fluids leaking from a dozen places along her torso.

_I'm dying, aren't I?_

All of the strain in her arms suddenly ceased. Arms from another Hunter, black and gray in color, held her now, pulling her away from the frame. Her expression as she looked up to her hero was one of complete shock.

"Gotcha." Commander Gavin said, a warm smile spreading across his face as they lowered towards the ground at a much safer speed than she would have had he not intervened.

"Ga...vin...commander-" Nana managed to say. Her bright blue eyes lost their light as she went limp.

She wanted to return his smile, she wanted to thank him, but everything had grown so dark, and she couldn't see him. She felt even the sensation of his arms fade away, her world a mass of error windows that disappeared one by one in rapid succession. _I don't want to-_

"Nana? Nana!"

* * *

Falcon stood, feeling awkward and off balance, damaged by the detonation of his subtanks and wings, and unused to his body weight without either. He'd shut off his audio sensors before setting off his IED, to spare the pick ups from being overloaded. Turning them back on only gave him the loud roar of the aftermath that consumed over half of the room.

"Lifesaver?" he called out. The reply was a spate of plasma fire that struck him hard in the right shoulder, throwing him into a half spin as he fell back towards the server he'd been resting against. Snarling, he fired his buster through the smoke where he thought the enemy was, his IR systems made worthless by all of the heat in the background. After several moments, the incoming fire tapered off. He fired several more test shots, to be certain, and there was no counterfire.

"Falcon, I can't detect anything reliably. We're blind here." Lifesaver shouted over the din.

The wingless Hunter ran forward, taking a leap over the beginnings of a jagged hole in the floor, flying through the smoke with the assistance of his foot thrusters. When he finally broke free of the smoke, he found himself in what was left of the corridor. He managed to land on both feet and keep his balance, dropping down to one knee to check for hostiles and provide a smaller target, and saw no-one. He did notice a large pool of reploid blood on the ground, speckled with bits of components and armor, and assumed that the attackers had left this behind. Next to it were further streaks of blood, and the telltale, faint burns left behind by a warp transfer.

"Son of a bitch." Falcon muttered. _Lifesaver, they fled. How many did you think you detected before I set off the trap?_

_My own internal records counted two unknowns._ _Did we get them?_

_No._

_...I see._

Falcon stared up the gaping wound in the building that led to the open skies and freedom for the Mavericks. The what ifs began. If only he'd triggered the trap sooner. If only they'd had more time to prepare. None of it mattered in the end. His HUD showed that the air was finally cleared of the EM barrier, and Falcon leaned heavily against a battered wall and contacted Signas.

* * *

Signas crept up on the door the two Mavericks had broken through after he'd ambushed them. Stacking up behind him were assorted members of the 0 and 17th units. He was determined to lead the entry team. For long minutes had his forces exchanged fire through the doorway and the walls with the Mavericks, until both sides gave up on eliminating one another in that way, and the firefight had come to a quiet pause. The Mavericks had used the shoulder mounted cannons as detached sentry turrets to watch for possible infiltration via other means, but the constant use had all but melted down their barrels, and they sat inactive against the walls they'd been placed upon. Before demolitions capable Hunters arrived to prepare a much larger entryway, he knew the fighting had worn down both Mavericks, but not to the point where they were completely helpless. There were dead to attest to that.

The sudden shaking that wracked the building had surprised him, and losing contact with the one confirmed survivor of the Maverick assault in the command center also concerned him. The wireless network that had been robbed of the building had returned, albeit in a fractured state, which confirmed that the reported drop pods had been responsible for that setback.

Like everyone other Hunter, being reconnected to the network meant he could check on the status of fellow Hunters throughout the building, and the number of inactive 'files' struck him as a series of hammerblows to his external resolve. He took one look at his ragtag group of fighters, and felt immense pride for them, unbroken despite everything they now knew. The knowledge that Vile was still out in the city and fighting with X and Zero made it imperative that they finish here and soon. As bad as things were at HQ, Vile in New Tokyo was a growing catastrophe with every passing second, and as soon as he could free up Hunters to assist the hurting 21st, X and Zero in the city, the better.

_Signas, it's Falcon._

_Make it brief._

_Lifesaver confirms two Mavericks attempted to breech IsoDatServ, repelled through use of an IED._

_Their status?_

_Gone. They must have anticipated via thermal scans, no kills on the Mavericks. Evidence suggests they teleported out. You use dampening materials within the structure to prevent warp outs, but the charge blasted a large enough hole in the building that they were able escape. I'm sorry._

_...On the parade grounds, Hunters set up a field triage. Escort Lifesaver there, his staff needs him._

_Understood. Sir, how are things on your end?_

_The situation will be pacified momentarily._ Signas cut the newly minted Hunter off at that. Turning to face the Hunter just behind him, a smallish female humanoid type, he nodded. At that, she placed a shaped charge on the wall next to them. On the other side of the doorway, another Hunter did the same. He hadn't detected a transfer system power up, which meant they still had time to retire or capture the two if they worked fast. If the enemy was desperate, they could try to blast a wide enough hole in the building that static defenses would not stop their warp transfer. Signas didn't think they had the firepower to do it quickly.

He stood back from the wall, and prepared to charge through the enlarged breech they would make in the next moment.

"You are isolated. You cannot warp through the materials in place within our walls. You have been abandoned by your allies. It's over." He announced for the Mavericks to hear, his voice booming through the war torn corridors around him. " You may have killed many innocents. You may have killed many of my Hunters. In the end, you have accomplished nothing of actual value. You will be forgotten as mere Mavericks. Aberrations. There will be no redemption for you."

Signas didn't notice the stares he'd gotten from the other Hunters. This was a rarely seen side of the commander.

There was silence in reply for a long moment. The sounds of busters charging and sabers igniting filled the air on either side of the walls that separated Hunters and Mavericks. Just before Signas gestured to his people to set off the breaching charges, the Mavericks did reply.

"We never sought redemption. We will not be forgotten."

"So be it." Signas whispered. Over his eyes, a protective visor slid into his place, just as the charges detonated. The dust had yet to clear, but he moved forward through it.

He could see both Mavericks, hands raised and staring defiantly at the Hunters as the maintained a safe distance from the two soldiers. Both possessed beam sabers, pointed at their chests. The threat they implied was was there for all to see, enough to give pause to their would-be killers.

"We will not be forgotten." The two Mavericks spoke in one voice. With that, they plunged the sabers through themselves, their faces expressionless as blue light flowed from every seam in their bodies. They had pierced their reactor housings to force an overload. Too late, Hunters with busters opened fire, cutting down both men, their bodies falling to the floor in a heap, heads blown wide open by mag pistol fire, portions of their armor burned away by plasma fire. What was left twitched on the ground as the light grew brighter, angrier.

_They would die simply to cause more damage. Without hesitation._

As he and his Hunters withdrew quickly in the direction they came, he found himself wondering what it was, exactly, that had driven the Mavericks to fight as they had on this day. He found himself cursing them, for he knew after it was over, he would be left with many dead to account for, many questions, and absolutely no answers from these two. It bothered the commander class reploid immensely. They must have known that they stood a very poor chance of catching anyone within their final suicidal act, but they had treated it as merely another part of a mission. They'd thrown themselves away.

Signas had lagged behind a moment longer, ensuring that his people had moved out ahead of him and to least he could do this much.

Behind him, Maverick Hunter Headquarters was rocked one last time.

* * *

Gavin came sprinting up to the triage, holding onto what was left of Nana, shouting for a medic. A number of other technicians who could free themselves from less wounded Hunters to begin the desperate task of resuscitating her, if such could even be done. Her fluids had flowed freely from her, covering his arms and chest in deep purple. She was completely limp in his arms.

"Help her." He begged, his voice hoarse.

Ahead of Gavin, Falcon landed on the ground with a heavy thud, having jumped from the ruined second floor with Lifesaver in his arms. The smaller doctor pushed himself away from Falcon, sprinting up towards Gavin and his stricken cargo.

"Get her onto a bed!" He shouted. "Priority One! Full recovery gear, ASAP. Time is 10:03 AM, subject designation Nana, severe full body trauma and transfer fluid loss, legs missing-" He paused in his assessment for a moment, his eyes rapidly scanning her. "Plasma burns, coolant leaks, indications of reactor failure, containment systems working as intended, subject is unconscious." Quickly, several other technicians excused themselves from less severely injured Hunters, and fell upon the dying girl. A monitor was hooked into a port on the back of her head, and lines of code spewed across the screen. Lifesaver grimaced. "Memory corruption, SSD back up failing, physical memory hardware damaged. Get her hooked up to some juice, her emergency battery is dying."

For some, the fighting had just begun.

* * *

As Signas and his team of Hunters dragged themselves away from the building towards the emergency triage on the parade grounds, some Hunters recognized their friends and ran to greet one another if they could. Doan could be seen holding tightly onto Cleo, and she wept, pounding a small fist into his chest. He apologized softly to her again and again.

"The plans for your armor, all gone, the pictures-" she started to say.

"Doesn't matter right now." He tried to smile for her. "It's over."

Falcon remained standing, well away from the Hunters, his eyes taking in the scene, fascinated by what he was. Another Hunter took notice of the battered, wingless feraloid, and beckoned for him to take a well deserved rest on an emergency maintenance bed, but Falcon only shook his head.

"I can wait." He said quietly. "I'm still combat effective." The scene called back memories of his time in the military, and his time on the SKYLIGHT recovery project. Falcon felt himself to be a stranger, coming across a family in mourning after a disaster.

In the military, death was expected, and glossed over, especially for reploids. Seeing it treated so differently here surprised him. In the distance, he watched as Signas strolled through the area, helping direct medical personnel to wounded, acknowledging the salutes from other Hunters. They briefly met eyes, and Signas snapped off a salute to his new Hunter before moving on.

The commander quietly looked over his survivors and his dead, _his_ Hunters, and found himself blinking rapidly.

_There was nothing I could have done to prevent the losses we sustained. I know this, and yet it upsets me. More than anything I have experienced in my life, this upsets me._

His arrival at MHHQ was met with disdain all those years ago, and he had worked hard, so very hard, to dispel those attitudes. Over time, he had become respected as a leader, despite literally being born into the position as a replacement for the late Dr. Cain. He had earned their trust over the course of many difficult times. He fought to juggle his responsibilities to the GDC, the very people to whom he owed his short lifetime to, and to the reploids and humans that served under him to fight a threat that seemed to refuse death.

Signas limped towards a makeshift bench of supply crates to sit down upon, a silent observer of his people. In his mind, he had restored links to his Hunters in New Tokyo, and his connection to the wireless network. Sure enough, the attacks in Japan had been reported, though the details were much sketchier than they had been in regards to the battle at New York. That was sure to change within the hour.

There remained work to be done. He quickly checked to see who among the Hunters was battle ready and able to get to New Tokyo, and silently sent the necessary orders.

"You've all...performed admirably," he said.

**Akihabara, New Tokyo  
10:04 AM**

X cursed himself as the chase lead into one of the more populated areas of the city. Evacuation orders had gone into effect, but that only made things worse in a way. Unlike Vile, he couldn't simply bowl through or shoot through the screaming crowds of civilians as they pushed past eachother and X in a desperate attempt to flee. He constantly passed by hurt humans and damaged reploids, and his rage only continued to build with each step, only held in check by the occasional cry of recognition and cheer from the few who shouted encouragement to the Azure Hunter.

"X, three hundred meters, take a right! Vile's inside a Sofmap at the end of this shopping center!" Zero shouted over the comms, the sound of wind rushing past him carrying over. He was currently jumping from roof to roof, trying to set up a pincer attack with X if needed.

X didn't openly state it, but a part of him hoped he would get to Vile first, and finish the job himself. He stood a good chance of doing that. The Maverick had been gutsy enough to try and having it out with X and Zero, in addition to whatever support Gavin had left behind while he went back to HQ, and paid for it somewhat. Forced to flee, and without his ride armor, Vile chose to use civilians to cover his retreat. He could have simply warped away, but he apparently hadn't had his fill of carnage just yet. This suited X just fine, he didn't feel the need to show any mercy whatsoever at this point.

He rounded the corner to continue to the point Zero indicated, passing a pair of police marked ride armors who had suffered the consequences for trying to stop Vile themselves. Perfectly aimed shots to the armored cockpits. Civilian hardware didn't have nearly strength to stand up to even the lowest strength plasma shots X could unleash, much less the stuff Vile was throwing around.

_They don't even come armed with ranged weaponry,_ X thought grimly. Behind him, the sounds of the panicked city seemed to fade as he moved deeper into the shopping center. His armored boots echoed against the tile floors, along with a subtle hiss of heated dash verniers burning the painted surfaces with each step.

The storefront of the Sofmap had pretty much been flattened, all of the glass completely shattered. Inside he could see people huddled together and kneeling on the floor. Some cried, others were silent. Sitting at the back of the store next to an overturned register was Vile, who began to applaud as X approached.

"There goes my hero!" he sang, badly off key. "Watch him as he goes!"

The Hunter raised his Mark-17, eyes scanning for civilians that could be affected. Predictably, Vile reached behind the counter and easily lifted a screaming Japanese teenager up and sat the poor girl roughly in his lap.

X stood just outside of the storefront. The range was about thirty meters. The way the girl was situated on Vile meant he couldn't fire anywhere near him or she'd be lucky to only suffer from third degree burns from the plasma passing her. She was pretty, thin for her size. Short black hair, spiked in an odd way. She was the sort of girl who apparently knew how good she looked, and her clothes didn't hide her figure at all. X could see her eyeliner running down her face from her tears, the earrings, the wedding band on her finger, the little items she hung from the belt around her glossy leather pants.

"Zero...Zero he has hostages."

"Sonofa- Okay, you think you can draw him out?"

"No, you can't force me to walk out there!" Vile shouted at X. He carressed his hostage along her cheek with his fingertips, and X's eyes locked onto the fact that they had been converted into the miniature busters he'd used to devastating effect in the times before Sigma's First.

"That answers that. We can't snipe him either. No proper LOS, hostages...I'm coming down." Zero muttered.

"Wait, let me deal with this."

"X, you surely know what has happened by now." Vile did not hide the satisfaction in his voice.

"That you've attacked MHHQ? You people are getting sloppy, Vile. When Sigma went Maverick, he nearly emptied the whole building. Your friends were lucky to only lose half their number."

"True. Sigma really knew how to throw a party, don't you think? Really, those kids didn't have the resolve to really be proper killers. They put on a good show, at any rate. Place is pretty screwed up. New York ain't lookin' so good now, either. But then again, you know that much too."

"Let them go, Vile."

"How about... no?" The Maverick laughed harder than he had before. "You're so straightforward, X. So easy to read. To think Sigma once looked at you and saw POTENTIAL! You believe that load of bull? You?"He gripped the girl by her neck, holding her before him as a shield from X.

"Put her down!"

"I don't wanna! You are the WORST, X! You could have taken care of me by now! I've been hit by a magrifle, you tell the kiddo from the flying unit that was supporting you 'nice shot' by the way, I've lost my ride armor, I don't have my old shoulder cannon...where's that bravado? Where's that bloodlust I saw earlier? Come on, you'll only kill, what, thirty, thirty five people? What's the hold up?"

X charged his buster, the familiar whine filling the air.

"Oh just put it down, Blue! You won't fire, you CAN'T fire! You keep thinking the consequences of killing a few of these _things_ in the line of duty! I've killed hundreds, today. Maybe thousands...I'm not sure... You know, in video games, they give you these little counters that tell you how many-"

"SHUT UP."

"-kills you've gotten, been thinking I should modify my HUD so I don't lose track. I do hate to not be able to quote the right number whenever I need to gloat. What a face, X. What a face."

With that, he reached down and picked up another hostage, this one an older woman, her hair as white as her skin, she remained silent, here eyes shut and her mouth moving in silent prayer. He began to walk towards X.

"X. I told you I'd haunt you until the day you died. I don't have to be here to do that. I know it, and that's what makes this so much fun for me. Reploids never forget, unless they want to, or are forced to. You will always remember this day, and so many more like it."

"Vile-"

"X. X, I'm supposed to be dead. You said you'd make sure, the last time we fought before today. But here I am. Your problem is you can't ever see a job through to the bitter end. No matter how angry you get, no matter how much you swear you'll put an end to everything, you don't have what it takes to do what has to be done. That's why you can't finish off Sigma, much less finish off me."

He flicked the younger woman away, and she flew violently out of the store at X, who managed to catch her. Miraculously, she hadn't hit anything on her flight out towards the Hunter.

"Th-thank you..." She sobbed, barely able to stand.

"Get behind me." X ordered. _I can't stop him like this!_

"Lemme tell you somethin', Blue." Vile continued his slow walk forward. " Alexander the Great conquered much of his known world, and even some that he didn't know about. You know why he did it? He wanted order. Under his rule, to be sure, but he figured that was the best way to instill order among the savages of the world." He held the old woman up high as he finally walked out of the Sofmap.

_X, I am almost right on top of him._ Zero reminded him on their private link.

"X, this thing between Mavericks and Hunters? Think of it like Alexander the Great. You want to stop us? Stop me? You need to break a few eggs to make that omelet."

With that, a familiar glow encompassed his body. His warp generator had come online, and he maintained his grip on the old woman.

"DON'T DO IT!" X screamed, running forward.

"I let you save the kid, but you couldn't do a thing for this old hag. Oh well. She was old anyway, prolly had a good life. Wonder where her atoms'll end up?" He, and his hostage, vanished in a pale green beam of light a moment later.

X fell to his knees, and screamed at the sky.

**Temporary Field Triage, MHHQ Parade Grounds  
10:18 AM**

"Looking at solid state drive memory corruption, RAM is gone, failsafes are going." Lifesaver reached into a chest compartment and pulled out a syringe-like device. He disengaged her chest plating, exposing her reactor core. He grimaced upon looking inside, then jabbed the syringe directly into one of her sub-tanks. They spoke to her, as though she would awaken at the sound of voices calling out her name. Her body jerked as energy was forced into the battered frame, but fell still once more after every attempt. They tried for long, agonizing minutes before finally, her eyes glowed once more, the crystal housing that protected her control chip on her forehead blinking intermittently. Broken, indecipherable speech issued from her lips.

"Her output is low." One tech warned. "Status on nanos?"

"Injected, no effect, massive energy leaks, just too much to deal with at once, she isn't able to retain a charge from external hardware-" Lifesaver's voice was steady, a weather reporter's cadence, discussing an oncoming light rain shower.

"-losing her, reactor isn't maintaining output-"

She spasmed once more on the bed, trying and failing to sit up, her lips opening and closing involuntarily.

"Back-up?" Livesaver asked.

"Working it, control software is a mess, I don't think I can salvage her core memory, the back-up keeps getting corrupted at twenty three percent." The technician who was trying to salvage the data from her control chip worked his data pad as quickly as its touch screen allowed. "Lifesaver, her hardware-"

"Keep trying." The medical chief snapped, his eyes not leaving the systems monitor. "Too much damage, nanos aren't able to compensate...goddamnit..."

She seemed to look around, twisting about despite the efforts to keep her steady.

"Ga...vin..."

"Lifesaver, her SSD's failing, back-up system is not responding!"

"No no no no no!" Lifesaver shouted. "Restart her reactor, force it if you have to-"

Her expression became blank as she fell back against the bed. Again and again, the technicians tried to speak to her, to get her to react to their presence. Lifesaver cursed, jabbing the button for the external back up batteries to kick start her systems, over and over. She did not respond again. He stepped back, pushing the others away from Nana, eyes squeezing shut as he circled around the bed, lost in thought. His hands shook as he wiped as much of her purple blood away from them as he could. He looked into the morning sky, before making a fist and pounding it against her bed as hard as he could, cursing once more. His assistants looked away.

"Guernica is going to need a full rebuild. Get him prepped for that, he's Priority. Keep an eye on the files for anyone else who becomes Priority here in the next few minutes. Stabilize who you can." The lead doctor of the Hunters paused.

"Move on, if you must."

With that, they moved on to their next patient, save for Lifesaver, who could only stare at Nana numbly.

"You're kidding me." Gavin managed.

"She's gone." Looking back at Gavin, Lifesaver roughly yanked free on of the cables that provided the empty shell of Nana with energy, and she fell slack once more. "Program loss. I'm sorry." He said, his voice calm, leaving Gavin with a shocked expression as the medical reploid walked stiffly away.

She could be rebuilt, but she would not be the same Nana. The voice of the 21st was gone. Left alone with her body, Gavin reached down and grabbed onto her hand, and wondered what he could have done differently.

"I didn't-" he started to say, and he found that the rest of the words refused to come out.

It had been a hell of a morning.

* * *

By noon, the fires at MHHQ had been doused. Hunters who were able to assist began the immediate clearing of what would get in the way of salvage efforts. As predicted, the media fell upon the battered building, asking all manner of questions to the survivors. The convenient nature of the attack had started quite the firestorm in the Japanese military, with the commanding general of the Air Force resigning by midday. No one was able to explain how the Mavericks had managed to get into Japanese airspace as they had, or why the military had not gotten involved as soon as it appeared the Hunters were initially unable to control the situation. The accusations thrown about were often unfair. Some blamed the GDC for having instituted massive cutbacks on the Hunters, something that had been protested in the wake of Apollo's Rebellion. Others blamed the Hunters themselves.

The tearful recollections of a Japanese 18 year old named Sayoko Isaka filled the airwaves, how she'd been saved by X, and how he and everyone else had been powerless to rescue an old woman who had yet to be identified as she was taken with the Maverick Vile when he warped away.

The typical debates began. In the United States, commentators once again argued the safety of reploids. Were they a menace? A necessity? What existed to prevent something like this from happening again?

Everyone sought something and someone to blame. It did not change the facts.

Over a hundred Hunters died in New York. In Japan, sixty two were confirmed dead by the end of the day. Civilian casualties were estimated to reach nearly two thousand in New Tokyo alone.

People wept for lost family members, and those who were more fortunate thanked whatever God or benevolent spirit they chose to believe in.

Somewhat less reported was a fire and explosion of an energen processing plant fifty miles north Beijing, killing three hundred workers and another sixty fire fighters who had arrived on the scene to try and contain the blaze before the fatal explosion. Details of the cause were sketchy at best.


	7. Phase 5: Pieces

**Phase 5: Pieces**

**December 8th, 2133 11:07AM**

**MHHQ **

**New Tokyo, Japan**

The service had lasted over an hour. Twenty Hunters were buried at Cain's Memorial. A number of the fallen reploids would have their remains disassembled for spare parts, repurposed with new control chips, or be simply scattered to atoms via warp transfer, according to the wishes of the individual. All told, sixty two members of the Maverick Hunters had fallen in Japan in just over an hour and a half of fighting. Fifteen had been human, their bodies returning to their hometowns upon notification of their families. A hundred and thirty civilians, all but two of whom confirmed as reploids, had also died when the Mitsubatchi had completely annihilated one of the security entrances. They died before they were ever granted the chance to join the Hunters. The New Tokyo Metropolitan Police, too, had suffered its worst disaster since the Sigma's First, having a similar ceremony to honor hundreds of its fallen on the other side of the city. In the affected parts of New Tokyo, the civilian death toll was still rising. Some bodies would never be found. On the flatpanels, tearful relatives begged for information on the whereabouts of loved ones who had been near the Memorial Bridge.

In every sense, yesterday had been a crushing, demoralizing defeat. People walked around in a daze, still asking themselves how it could have come to this.

It was easy for a Hunter, especially the youngest ones, to feel invincible after they were certified. With certification came upgrades or equipment, the stuff usually reserved for full on military spec-ops units. With those came confidence, and that confidence was honed to razor sharpness through the daily training they would endure. A Hunter always prepared so that they might live defiantly in the face of death. They would lament the poor bastard who was unlucky at dealing with a rogue mechaniloid, or a nobody unaffiliated Maverick with a grudge to satisfy and more firepower than they should have been allowed to lay hands upon. They would lament, and learn from it. It was the way to accept the harshness of combat, and the effects that persisted well after it was ended. No sane Hunter woke from their stasis chamber or their bed in the morning expecting that their luck had run out. They might expect to have a rotten day on duty, but death? That was for some other unlucky schmuck, bless their 'soul' on the way to electric heaven, if those things existed..

The Hunters had relied on the skills they and their comrades had been given for the cause. They trained under the best of the best. They prepared for such scenarios, time and time again, and still many had not passed the harshest test of all.

The GDC said they would assist MHHQ New Tokyo at restoring its full strength over time during a statement in the previous evening, but merely offered its condolences to their American counterparts. The move was no surprise, given political tensions between the world body and AmeriCanada. It was something that further served to show how quickly the plight of the Hunters had become politicized, how quickly it has become another pissing match between superpowers. The dough-boys, as always, got to suffer for it. The worst of it was, no matter what sort of tech the GDC promised to build into the replacement Hunters, they'd be lacking as warriors until they got some real combat experience under their belts. There was only so much physical and mental potential could do. Experience is what pushed reploids beyond simple machines, gave them their human mannerism and personality quirks that extended beyond what was programmed in. To help shore up the replacements, a select few Hunters would be restored from back ups maintained by their requests, but not immediately. There were issues to work out.

It was inexplicable as to why, but a simple data back up rarely recreated a fallen reploid's persona without flaws. A back-up copy could be close to an original, but there was always something...off. When most Hunters fell in battle, that was it. Many times, there wasn't much left of the Hunter, or the Maverick had gotten lucky and taken out the control chip, leaving an empty shell and the memories others associated with it. If by chance their control chip was intact, they could be restored. There were memory back ups, maintained once a month if a Hunter requested, in the event they died, but wished to continue service, but rarely was the option exercised. It was mostly too painful to the victim's friends to see them changed, but it also was challenging on the clone.

What happened when a reploid died? Would they see their human companions, or would they only see reploids? Would the sum of all their experiences flash before their eyes, as the saying went? Did their 'soul' travel to 'heaven', and was that why a back up was rarely as good as an original?

One of the dominant faiths humanity held fast to belief in an 'immortal' soul that defined a human being. Other belief systems claimed the soul was not only eternal, but migratory. Occasionally, memories from past lives lived in different bodies would find their way to the surface. Some said they knew of past lovers, of past lives and deaths. In that sense, it was not entirely different from reploids, who could have their personalities transferred between bodies. If a soul had a digital and physical counterpart, it was the master program control chip on every reploid. It did push the limits of what was socially acceptable to say a reploid had a soul, at least among humans. The argument was there, however.

Could machines have a 'soul'? Could reploids? If the 'soul' of a reploid was like that of a human being, and could be 'restored' with effort, could a human soul be copied or recorded somehow, and implanted in a new body?

Nana was dead.

She'd become a statistic, an unfortunate one. She'd never been a fighter, never had been meant to take up arms for anything in self defense, and yet without her, Signas claimed he'd have never been able to restore the wireless network as quickly. While many of her friends had died with her in the opening moments of the assault, she was survived by many more. Her voice had become an intrinsic part to the Maverick Hunters. For the 21st, she'd become known as their voice, their herald to those in need as she spoke calmly over police radios that the Hunters were coming. Gone forever.

Like the other deaths, hers was discussed in passing. Respectfully, of course, but it was 'just another one'. Early retirement was a common wording for it. It was easy to trivialize, because it made it easy to move forward.

Zero had shown no real signs of being slowed down by the aftermath of the battle. He'd gathered survivors of the 0 Unit, gave them a pep talk, praising them for fighting well under difficult circumstances. He'd asked for casualty counts, nodded curtly, and reminded them to stay alert before having shambled off towards his own quarters. It was his way to stick to business, his way to reassure those under his command, and those he called his friends. It would have worried them more to see him an emotional wreck. More than ever, he kept hold of his own personal angst. He had to. It kept him sharp. He couldn't be an avenger if he was dead from being an unfocused idiot.

And yet, he could not keep his hands from balling into fists as he stood at attention while subordinates and friends were buried before him.

Standing next to the Crimson Hunter, Doan showed even less emotion. Few could guess what thoughts ran through the mind of the Ghost Wind. Fewer still would hear him voice them. Death was something of a regular event to deal with among the Hunters. It no longer was enough to give him pause. He felt sorry for those that passed on, but felt thankful that they had made the unlucky draws, and not Cleo.

Gavin had allowed himself to vent in private, weeping as he spoke into a private video journal, recounting her final moments as she reached towards him, and past him, towards something beyond the world they lived in, before falling silent forever. He'd wept as he recalled the bodies, what was left of bodies, covered and neatly lined up across the parade grounds, knowing that some of them had been under _his_ command. He raged at his inability to see what more he could have done, unwilling to believe that he had done everything that was expected of him. He, like many others, only focused on his mistakes, blowing them farther out of proportion than he should have. It was a quality of commanding officers since the dawn of organized military ranks, to second guess themselves, to seek out a better course of action long after the action had passed. To wonder what could have been, and what should have been.

On the same floor, several rooms away, X had done the same, haunted by the loss of the old Japanese woman the day before, haunted by Vile's final words. Had he known that one of his best commanders sat less than two hundred feet away, lost in the same anguish, perhaps they could have shared a drink together. It might have made them see that they had done right by their fallen. For now, the two stood next to one another among colleagues in silence, waiting for the ceremony to end. Here and now, they showed none of the emotion that gripped them when they were certain they were alone. Model commanding officers.

The final Hunter had her coffin finally covered with soil, and Signas marched to a small podium that had been temporarily erected for the mass funeral, his gait still affecting a limp from the damages he sustained escaping the final suicide attack from two of the assassins. Reploids did not need to breathe the same way as a human did, but when he turned and faced the survivors of his command, the instinct to breathe, to steady his thoughts and compose his mind, was compelling.

"It is impossible to say everything I thought about after yesterday's events. I can say that I felt as though I had failed you all, and the proof is in the numbers. Sixty two of our people are dead, and they join many more who fell in the simultaneous attack upon our American friends. We have yet to understand why it happened, what the Mavericks intended to accomplish. We're trying to piece together information as quickly as we can, and we've been seeing aid from various organizations. We are moving forward, we have not been deterred in our mission."

"We have all lost friends and family. Our world has grown darker, and even now, I know we question ourselves, our resolve. With the reappearance of Vile, we know that this can only be considered the calm before the storm. You may ask yourselves what lies ahead, and what, if anything, can be done to prepare for it. Are we even capable of facing the threat?"

"On June 4th, 2118, Sigma and his 1st Unit killed nearly every single Hunter in this building. Yesterday, a vanguard of four Mavericks laid siege with air support, and we repelled them. We suffered great losses, but we repelled them. Everyone performed their duties to the best of their ability. We have long been a stronger organization than the one Sigma had betrayed. We are the best that humanity and reploidkind has to offer, united to stand as a beacon of justice in the face of terror. We will continue. We will move forward. To do so is the highest respect we can pay to our lost friends. Our family." Signas wavered here. The sight of the commanding officer of all Maverick Hunters, struggling to maintain his composure, a machine feeling more human than ever, was striking. The hundreds of gathered members of the associated press maintained their voices, but the sounds of camera flashes and muted beeps indicated recorded imagery could be heard rippling through their designated area.

"I promise you, I will exercise everything in my power to ensure this does not go unanswered. We will continue to move forward. Mark these deaths well. Remember the names and faces. Honor them by doing your duty, as you did yesterday, as you always have." The commander's body went rigid as he stood back from the podium, spinning to face the newly planted markers and the dozens more that surrounded Cain's Memorial.

"HUNTERS. ATTEN-HUT." Guernica shouted. He stood with the aid of no one as the honor guard to the memorial for this shift, though his body showed the signs of extensive work. Parts of his armor were matte gray and black, unfinished. Access paneling had not yet been hidden. His right shoulder did not have its protective pauldron in place, his right leg still showing off its internal structure in places not yet attended to by technicians. After this he would need to report back to Cleo and her people so they could continue tuning him back to maximum efficiency, and to finish the detailing of his frame. His rebuild had taken nearly eight hours using available spare parts that his systems were compatible with, and he'd been the easiest. Lifesaver was unable to actually attend the ceremony. He and the entire medical staff were still fighting to stabilize several Hunters whose systems were so damaged that a safe transfer of their physical control chip was not possible. It had become an affair that involved going through the millions of lines of code one at a time and transplanting them onto a storage unit, ensuring that the code was preserved 'as is'.

Every single Hunter came to attention. It was the sound of thunder across the memorial, metal boots coming together in unison. The press faced their cameras to the entire gathering now, snapping away. Some wiped tears from their eyes. Fewer lowered their cameras out of respect.

As one, the Hunters saluted, right hands barely reaching their foreheads. Guernica whipped his magrifle around once, aiming it to the sky. As the Hunters finished their salute, he fired once. The round trailed a singular blue light before dissipating in the late morning sky, visible against the partly cloudy sky.

"Return to your duties." Signas announced. "There still remains a world in need of us."

* * *

Reconstruction of the damaged facilities had begun in earnest, and in order to participate, Solar Falcon had to get himself checked out by Douglas and Cleo's maintenance teams. In addition to his already imposing size, he too had retained the majority of his battle damage from the other day. If only for a short while, regulations had been relaxed while they started the pick up, but after the ceremony, Signas had sent out orders to Hunters who's diagnostic systems indicated they were not combat ready by his standards to get looked at. He found the attention to such details from Signas to be surprising. Under similar circumstances, the JSDF would have slapped on temporary armor and told him he was combat effective. Like all military reploids, he had been designed to operate with less than optimal conditions in mind, and this included inconveniences such as the forcible removal of his own sub tanks for use in a booby trap.

The vehicles maintenance bay had become the new home for the medical staff. In a corner that hadn't sustained as much damage as the rest of the bay they now worked on the reconstruction of the grievously damaged Hunters, as well as stabilizing the few human Hunters that had been lucky enough to encounter the Mavericks and survive in one piece. Falcon took stock of others like him who had been ordered to come down for maintenance, and felt a bit of self loathing. He was in far better shape than most.

"Bitch of a way to join up, huh new guy?"

The voice came from a human-type reploid with her black hair slicked back into spikes. She still wore armor that was scuffed in places, wore it proudly. She stood at an even five feet tall, so she had to look up to him to meet his eyes as he turned to address her.

"As you say," he allowed.

"We're gonna need people like you." The girl said quietly. "I heard you nearly bagged the other two Mavericks with an IED. I wish you'd have been luckier- Let me start over." She shook her head. "I'm sorry, my name's Raye. B-Rank, been on the job for three years now. I was with Signas when we retired the other two Mavericks. And thank you." She offered a hand to Falcon.

"I don't understand-"

"You don't have any personal attachments to this place." She said as she grabbed his comparatively massive hand, squeezing it tightly with her own. "But word's gotten around. You fought as hard as any of us with what you had available. We're...a tight group, sir. Outsiders have to earn our trust. So when I'd heard about what you'd done from scuttlebutt, well...I wanted to thank you." For a moment, her expression changed, a painful memory surfacing before she quickly buried it. "I think it was admirable as hell...and I think my friends who can't be here right now would thank you too."

"I'm a war machine. For a long time, I tried to run away from that part of myself. I only did what came natural." Falcon said evenly. "I don't feel as though I belong among the Hunters just yet."

"Here, you belong." Raye said, strangely reassuring to him. "We all do. Doesn't matter where we were before our time as a Hunter, we came here of our own accord. This is our home, our family. You're one of us now." She managed a smile at the feraloid before turning away. "I don't know what unit you'll be assigned to, but with luck, we'll fight alongside each other in the future." She waved back at Falcon as she walked away towards another cadre of Hunters.

"Welcome home." Falcon murmured to himself. The memories of camaraderie he'd once abandoned for a peaceful life flooded back to his mind.

* * *

"We're going to be below mandated regulation strength for at least three months unless recruitment meets out needs." Signas said to his gathered commanders. "Despite the GDC-AmeriCanada fallout, the Hunter HQ in New York is going to receive what support I can muster, which leads us to the reason I called you all to my office." He crossed the length of his office to manually engage the lock to the door. "This information doesn't leave your mouths to anyone save those present in this room. Understood?"

Six reploids and one human replied in the affirmative. These were the seven commanders who answered to Signas here at MHHQ, the fortunate few who still had a job in the wake of repeated budget cuts that got units disbanded over the years. Among them were X, Zero, and Gavin.

"Yesterday, as you are aware, the Hunter HQ in New York was attacked more or less within minutes of the start of the attack on our headquarters. The world knows about that, you can't turn to a single news network that doesn't have some form of coverage in regards to this. What isn't getting as much coverage is that an energen refinery north of Beijing got turned into a crater, again, at more or less the same time of the attack here. What is going completely unreported is that Hunter HQ Beijing sent the 72nd Unit to investigate the refinery just before it was destroyed, costing them their lives. The GDC seized all records of the mission, I do not have any access. We've been cut out of the loop."

"They're all related." A human commander spoke ominously, his voice gravel, betraying the years he'd given to the establishment as the commander of the 73rd. He was a rarity at New Tokyo HQ, representing a different perspective to turn to amongst the reploid dominated leadership. His face resembled a map, the roads marked by scars, reminders of how close he'd cut it in his younger years. In armor, he looked at least as intimidating as any reploid Hunter. "Mavericks hit the Hunters hard at two of their key nerve centers. By coincidence a key facility not unlike the one the Russians lost gets toasted at the same time? Factor in Vile's appearance, how can we not pin this on Sigma?" He shook his head. "Of course, it's too easy to lay the blame on him, and if it were that simple, we wouldn't be having the whole mess between Russia and China. We need evidence of Sigma's involvement beyond Vile, and it just ain't there. Smells like shit to me, sir."

"Astute as always, Commander Snipes." Signas nodded. "Unfortunately, we have no simple way of getting closer to the heart of the matter. The GDC holds one half of what we need. Their refusal to assist New York's recovery is interesting, and it may be something we can exploit in our favor, perhaps helping us get to the bottom of this." He faced X. "I am sending the 17th and the 21st to New York. You'll be interim Commander of New York HQ until recovery operations are complete there." The Azure Hunter frowned in response. "It is not an ideal solution, but we need people on the ground there. Sending you there would also be quite the gesture."

Gavin couldn't hide his displeasure at the temporary reassignment. When he looked at X, he felt some relief knowing that his superior felt more or less the same.

"I don't really like the idea of being used for some sort of power game when we were barely able to contain something like yesterday's incident. I think there are higher priorities at this time." X said flatly.

There was a noticeable cooling of the air in Signas' office.

"Which brings me to my next point." Signas chose not to directly question X on his statement. "The fact that the GDC is willing to cut off a part of the Maverick Hunters that I am the supreme commander of from any official support in this time of crisis means something. I am not liking the way I'm able to 'connect the dots', as they say."

"Signas, you think it's safe to send away two whole units?" Zero asked. "The 17th and the 21st came away from yesterday's fracas with the most fully operational personnel available, that's after factoring in the reassignments between units to bring them back up to full strength. You're committing sixty Hunters away from Japan."

"We are a global organization, Zero." Signas said quietly. "And now the GDC wants to pretend part of the globe is not very important quite suddenly, and they are making it difficult for us to look into events in our part of the world. Months ago, it was a hundred Hunters to a unit. Years before that, hundreds. Now it is thirty. Historically, it has fluctuated, we are now the weakest we have been since June 4th 2118. We have more support staff than actual field personnel. I assure you, the GDC has been looking to exercise more control over the organization with Cain gone, they want us under their complete control." He smiled bitterly as he added. "That was why they sent me here in the first place, as you will recall. I did not perform as expected."

"All good things." The commander of the 58th Unit, a massive draconic feraloid named Cirrus Tyber, muttered.

"True. But I have grown to like this establishment and appreciate why Cain set it up the way he did in the first place." Signas said. "I am looking into some options that have been brought to my attention recently. X, consider this part of it. You will have to trust me. Right now, we need to make friends in very high places."

"...I have one more thing I need to ask." X said, his gaze now directed to the ceiling. "The old woman Vile murdered. Has she been identified?"

"Yes. She is survived by her husband, three children." Signas said gently. "I sent you their respective addresses. You have time to finish any business before you deploy. Keep a line open, as always." The taller reploid gave X a gentle pat on the shoulder.

"Thank you." He spun on a heel and marched out of the room.

_I suppose no matter how long you do the work, you cannot always look past the consequences,_ Signas mused. _I doubt he will readily accept any counsel I can provide, but he seems to need it._

"Cheerful little snot." Snipes muttered. "You'd think he believes we lost the whole damned war yesterday."

"Unit postings aside, have we learned anything from the remains of the Mavericks that we did kill?" Gavin asked, quick to shift conversation away from X.

"Nothing. Their self destruct systems were thorough. The story was repeated in New York. In the end surviving Hunters and local MSWAT killed all four of their attackers, but little was actually left behind. We can assume they are custom bodies, seeing as how they were all built to bear a resemblance to Vile." Signas turned to a wall display that showed various stills captured from Hunters who'd survived their encounter with the Mavericks. "It must be pointed out that the level of resistance they maintained under overwhelming odds is highly uncharacteristic of common Mavericks."

"They came down in drop pods which doubled as high explosives, delivered by a high altitude glider which we know destroyed the Memorial Bridge. On top of that, they had fairly good air support." Cirrus interjected. "That indicates some sort of infrastructure they're tapped into or are stealing from. "They knew that they wouldn't be able to warp into HQ proper due to dampening materials in the walls. Military small unit tactics. We do the same here. Former Hunters, perhaps?"

"Nana, the only initial survivor of the command center assault, was able to record their voices, which confirmed my suspicions of their objectives." Signas's expression grew pained for a moment upon mentioning her. "We must assume that the security breach in October is connected. Our best technicians could not determine if any unauthorized access to our databases occurred, but we know the capabilities of the Maverick Nike, and we know that she is among a hundred or so military reploids considered Maverick by the US government."

"So former military then? We did help shut down the Maverick incident in Los Angeles back in September. Revenge killings?" Snipes shrugged. "Wouldn't be the first time."

"Doesn't fit the nature of the attack," another commander said, this one with a fresh scar across the synthskin over his face, a range finding scope over one eye that looked more like an eye patch. "They came here with a clear objective. Nike's infiltration into our HQ could explain how they handled themselves so well inside our own facility, could explain New York too. But why would they have resorted to unsecured vocal communication? Think of the military precision of the attack. They had clear objectives on how to neutralize our best advantages and fight on their terms. There was no reason for them to break that discipline unless they wanted us to know what was going on."

"That is a factor we cannot discount." Signas admitted. "I will be sending records of their voices, and those of the dead Mavericks, to people who may be able to help with the identification in some way as soon as I feel confident in my own detective work in regards to the attack. I also shall travel to GDC HQ myself tomorrow evening to see if I can gain access to the Hunter logs from the Beijing incident. I still have some friends I can pull favors with there, so I hope."

"Good luck with that." Zero snorted.

"In any case, all units are to return to intensive training programs immediately. All data in regards to the incident has been uploaded to the simulation decks." He switched the primary display to a satellite view of the Chinese-Russian border. Hundreds of markers, indicating known locations of military units. "Here's where things stand, gentlemen. They've done so quietly, but the Chinese build up at the border has intensified within the last twenty-four hours. Publicly, they've called it a response to increased Russian presence at the border. Diplomats are still engaging in high level talks, but from what most analysts are saying, the negotiations to stand down at the border have become an elaborate sham. Without knowing what committed the attack on the Chinese energen facility, we're not able to determine if that and our own losses yesterday are related concretely, not that we've been given much of a chance to investigate. To give you a sense of how big this is, the last time a military build up between political super powers occurred, the wars of the 2040's happened, and those are still argued by scholars to have been worse than the 2090's. Technology has improved exponentially since then. More importantly, we know that the GDC and Russia are on less than amicable terms. A source placed in the United States has informed me they they 'unofficially' back the Russians."

"So...the unaffiliated powers versus the Global Defense Council." Zero grimaced. "Isn't this kind of stuff supposed to be limited to e-books?"

"It could turn into that, yes. My conservative estimate is that at best, this will be a localized, regional conflict. The potential to spiral into something far worse is very high." Signas rapped his knuckles together, lost in a moment of thought. "We might have the ability to prevent all of this, it's a very slim chance. I believe we have possibly a month, maybe two before any possible influence we might be able to wield will be disregarded, but that could easily change."

"And China and Russia may very well be at war by then." Gavin said quietly. For a long moment people considered the strategic map. It was by no means as accurate as any the military planners in Russia and China had, but it was enough to get the imagination rolling. "Do you think we'd get pulled into it?"

"I believe the GDC could make a legal argument to assign Hunters to the war effort. Russia has done as much, trying to make up for the fact that the Chinese employ significantly more combat capable reploids in their military than they do."

"What would we do if the GDC did give us a standing order to stand down from our Hunter duties, and go to war?" Snipes cracked a wry grin. "It wouldn't affect a human like me very much, but you're all reploids. No laws of robotics to stop you, but we all remember 2124." His face softened a bit. "I don't like what implies. God knows how you feel about it. We already got military reploids...and they don't always take it well."

_Go to war... I am a war machine that makes war upon my people, corrupted by a virus, or corrupted by the ills of society around them._ Signas brooded. _War should not frighten me. I've been built for worse conflicts than the one we fought a day ago. I am a capable killing machine with a precision brain. Fighting is not an alien concept. Yet the very idea of being called to a war, a human war...this gives me pause._

_I would be given orders to fight and kill humans._

_Killing humans is what many consider 'the threshold', but that's been broken, legally, for so long._

_Could I do it? If I had to?_

"If we are fortunate, a solution can be found before it comes to that."

**December 8th, 2133 6:12 AM**

**Site Alfa**

**Ural Mountains, Russia**

_They're waiting this long on purpose._ Ricardo Sato thought tiredly. His Spetsnaz partner seemed less affected by the light sleep and the extended patrol shifts they were being asked to maintain, but for Ricardo it had proven to be something closer to Hell than anything he had envisioned prior. He was exhausted, sore all over, and unwilling to admit this out loud out of pride more than anything. Despite this, the Spetsnaz troop commander could tell, offering the MSWAT man a ride back to Camp Rus (and likely the unending ridicule of his fellow civilians who would stick it out), but he respectfully declined.

"Don't over do it, American. Pride is a potent drug, but it doesn't stop the cold from hurting and bones from breaking," he'd said. Sage advice from one fighting man to another.

Thinking about the Russian commanding officer somewhat pissed him off, about what specifically he was unsure. Captain Ilya was a year younger than Ricardo, but in a different league of physical fitness and combat experience. Perhaps it was the way he carried himself with a presence that seemed expected more of men twenty years their senior. Maybe the seemingly bottomless reserve of confidence. Who knew?

Visibility was poor, the storm that had rolled in as predicted was sticking around longer than expected. Not that it mattered. Today the weather was definitely in favor of covert action, and the OpFor reploids had to make their move soon. Though technically Sato and his fellow guard were no longer on patrol, they still turned around occasionally to check their immediate surroundings. The storm did also serve to increase the overall alertness of the people out on watch, but there was something else keeping them all awake and alert.

Ricardo had managed a few hours of very light sleep. Like everyone else at Site Alfa, they had been made avidly aware of the attacks in New York and New Tokyo, as well as the sudden loss of an energen refinery in China. The news had reached them via radio transmission, and soon every television screen on the training facility was tuned in permanently to the Russian news nets for information as it developed. Discussions at the mess had been strictly about what sort of Mavericks could have done that number. It hadn't take long before it was universally agreed military units had the capacity for such violence. Ricardo had put in his own two cents, giving them his perspective on the Los Angeles incident in September. He felt somewhat embarrassed by the compliments he received from these professional soldiers, found himself being grilled on the various tactics to defeat a rampaging Maverick. It was strange being an amateur in one sense and an authority figure in another.

Eventually, they began discussing what the incident in China meant for the 8th OSN. The fact that the largest standing ground army on the planet, which also employed the largest number of militarized Reploids, finally hit home for the members of Vanguard and the 1st RSF. It was no small wonder that the Chinese to the south were likened to a wave of men and mechanical monsters waiting for the right moment to crash down and overwhelm the borders of their northern neighbors. Recent tensions weren't helping.

_Happen to be dating one of those things they're afraid of, when you think about it that's kinda scary itself._ Ricardo hated himself for even thinking it, but reploids were 'better' than humans, and that carried certain connotations. _Hilde's not like that. Only way she'd go Maverick is if the Virus got her, and even then. She'd fight it._ _She definitely would. _He smiled in spite of the cold, not far from where he'd meet Lars to get relieved from his route. Eight hours of walking in snow and fighting the winds had turned his legs into solid masses of discomfort and further resentment for weather that wasn't like SoCal's. Like any man on foot, he'd take short breaks leaning against structures, never taking his eyes of the proverbial swivel, just some time to relieve his legs. He found himself missing tower watch duty. He was a sniper and MSWAT entry man, not a glorified guard patrol dog.

The wind was punishing, and his cold weather gear protected his extremities, such as his ears, so the howl of the air and snow rushing around him and between structures was fairly muted. There was no way he or the Spetsnaz accompanying him could have heard the light crunch of snow as a shimmering, lithe figure crept up behind them. With nobody else within visual distance of this thanks to conditions, the stalker was as safe as Ricardo was about to be 'dead'.

The skies were still dark above the lit sections of Site Alfa, and presumably, over the swirling darkness, there were thick clouds. The patternless sky transfixed Ricardo for a moment, which was when bright flares lit up the sky to his sides, overpowering the darkness and the various light poles around the camp. The Spetsnaz man cursed, and just as they spun to investigate to their right, where the closest flare in the sky had been launched from, he swore he saw a reploid clad in black _crawl_ out of the thin air, shimmering all over from the vestigal effects of the thermal optical cloak, and shove something roughly into the back of the soldier, who dropped like a sack of bricks.

His heart trying to find a way out of its chest, Ricardo brought his rifle up as the reploid faced him, charging with ridiculous speed. His finger found the trigger, and began to squeeze.

"MOTHERFUCKER-" he began to shout just as the Simulation Harness reminded him that it was still being worn. The center of his back rumbled as the harness indicated where he'd been 'wounded'. His whole body felt like it weighed three times more than usual, and as he fell, he felt arms catch him, and set him gently down onto his back.

The first reploid rolled the Spetsnaz onto his back, so he wouldn't stay face first in the snow.

"Sorry. You two are dead." a woman's voice said in plain English from above Ricardo. He squinted, trying to make out the figure of the reploid that got him. The voice was modulated in such a way that he couldn't identify-

Oh hell no.

"I said you were so dead, hon. See you in fifteen minutes. Good thing that wasn't a real saber through your chest." No modulation that time. It was Hilde without a doubt. The playfulness in her voice was unrestrained. "I missed you," she added a moment later.

"Killin' your boyfriend, you're real sadistic!" he shouted over the storm. He swore he heard her giggle before she and her accomplice simply vanished from sight. The Sim Harness was connected to his protective goggles, and it updated him on the situation. He was dead, as was Sergeant Mischa Bukharin, the man he'd been patrolling with. Apparently, 'charges' had been set off at the key surface objectives, as well as the primary barracks where he'd been sleeping, 'killing' exactly a hundred and seven personnel. 'Fighting' had erupted at several locations around the base. So far, no hostiles confirmed 'killed'. Many friendlies KIA. People were going to be pissed off after this was over.

"I guess we lose." Bukharin shouted angrily over the storm and simulated gunfire. "_B'LYAD'!_" he added for good measure.

"Yeah..." Ricardo muttered. He admitted to himself he was disappointed, but not terribly surprised. He tried to prop himself up to look at the Russian, but the Harness said 'no'. He imagined the special forces warrior was furious at their predicament. The two 'dead' men stayed silent for a minute.

"I heard you right, yes? That woman she is your woman?" The sergeant no longer sounded as upset as before.

"Yes, yes she is!"

"Scary. Scary. You and her. You into the..." the Sergeant searched for a term in his English vocabulary. "S and M. You into the S and M?" The man started to laugh.

"No!"

He found himself laughing with the man. Not much else to do as a virtual corpse.

* * *

"She is as good as you said." General Lenneth said with a measure of surprise. "Adapts well with foreign equipment, her actions while using therm-optics are a bit reckless, but skilled nonetheless. Excellent spatial awareness, even counting for the fact that she's tuned. She's not even your number one out of the five you picked. Kindle has yet to be actually detected by the Spetsnaz, I am most impressed with him. Overall your team displays extreme proficiency at ranged and close quarters combat. Once again, you and your people live up to your reputation, Erebus."

"Yeah, I'll have to talk to her about that little stunt she pulled with her first take down." Erebus sighed. _Finally, looks like we can stick a fork in this exercise. Not a moment too __soon. I was getting tired of __watching these poor humans be unable to find the advance __pair that infiltrated Site Alfa on the first __night._ He looked at Colonel Fyodor, whose jaw was clenched so hard that the color was draining from his face. "Did...that meet your expectations, sir?"

"I am unsure if I should be embarrassed or frightened," he said after a moment of thought. "By God, all major objectives, the effective destruction of the combat effectiveness of my men, with just ten reploids, in eight minutes."

"Understand that your only 'failure' is that you are human, Colonel." General Lenneth somehow managed to sound respectful with that comment. "When you couple adverse conditions with the raw ability of combat reploids...there is a reason why the US created units like my own. Even then, we are imperfect. There are means available for a man to stand up to a combat reploid, but consider that you were not up against mere 'standard' models of reploid. These are highly tuned and specialized individuals. You could consider them reploid Spetsnaz."

"That is still a level of performance that exceeds most Maverick Hunters." Arseny muttered. "I expected as much out of a military unit, but these MSWAT reploids, civilian units that can match them is impressive. I am unsure those defensive means would have sufficed."

"We'll never know. We simply never had a chance to fight a coordinated defensive action, General Lenneth. Nano-frags and directed EMP fields are worthless if they go unused." The colonel looked thoughtful. "I suppose this will panic a few politicians. As though there wasn't enough to be on edge about."

"About that. You were called away yesterday evening to discuss recent developments at the border." Erebus inwardly winced. That had been about as subtle as an artillery strike.

"Indeed. Whatever lessons were learned here today, we may need them very soon."

"How soon?"

"I'd say it depends more on China than anything else at this point. They take out one of our facilities, then blow one of their own up, and accuse us trying to cry misery to the world and blame them of the whole mess." Fyodor shook his head. Erebus narrowed his eyes slightly.

"Does your government have concrete proof it was the Chinese who hit the Kaminov facility?"

"They claim it's undeniable." The Russian didn't sound as convinced as his leaders. Lenneth and Erebus exchanged a glance.

"There may be some holes in their theories." Erebus continued. "If there are, you people could be going to war over a very serious intelligence error. I've seen the data off of one of the downed attack ships. It didn't seem 'undeniable' to me."

"That was what I said." Fyodor nodded, taking a sip from a canteen. "Personally, I would have liked to had visual ID on the supposed Chinese transport the radar detected, but conditions did not permit that."

_One of the good guys,_ Erebus thought. _At least people are still trying to use their brains over this._ "What if it could be proven, without a doubt, that Mavericks are responsible, not the Chinese government or their military?"

"The Chinese People's Liberation Army consists of nearly one million men and women. In addition to that, the intelligence estimates of multiple non-GDC aligned intelligence agencies say on average that the Chinese employ one hundred thousand reploids specifically designed for combat. They are unarguably in possession of the largest air and land based armed forces on the planet, and they are aligned with the GDC, an organization Russia is not on the friendliest of terms with." The colonel smiled thinly. "Anything that can reduce the chances of that force crossing the border would be appreciated."

* * *

The debriefing took roughly an hour. To their credit, the Spetsnaz took the loss about as graciously as one could expect of a professional special forces group. There was some amount of disbelief as to when they'd been first compromised, with the men who'd had reploids literally within feet of them at one of the main perimeter entrances swearing they heard or saw nothing. There was a lot of anger, but most of it was directed internally. In the ultimate arena that was armed conflict, Spetsnaz played the game harder than most, and they played to win. None of their training or their physical conditioning had counted for shit. It was doubly frustrating when they realized that their friends who died on the 1st had stood as little a chance as they had during a simulation, and it made their deaths more senseless.

Ultimately, it was concluded that the local defenses around the Kaminov facility had been inadequate to detect such an attack. Traditional surveillance wasn't enough, and the senses of man needed to be supplemented by something far more sophisticated. Throwing more men at the problem hadn't helped. If the Site Alfa exercise had been the real thing, the embarrassment internationally might have inspired a few high ranking officials to swallow more than just their pride. Reploids alone wouldn't do the trick, but they'd be acceptable stopgap measures for the time being. There were a number of ways to increase security at important facilities, and they'd be getting implemented as resources were made available. It didn't change the fact that December 1st hadn't been a mere fluke or a failure on the part of the armed forces, but rather something systemic, a failure on the part of the people who were to support them and equip them with the tools to win on a battlefield that potentially hid highly specialized, factory built demons.

The exercise also made it very clear that once again, the nature of armed conflict had changed with the introduction of new technology, as it had before and after every war.

The Russian military had reploid units of its own, but nothing quite so specialized as the Americans. Nothing, unless it counted its Maverick Hunters.

Hilde remained silent throughout the debrief. She didn't feel the need to interject often, they had all of her data from her system, and somehow felt afraid to speak up, as though the silently fuming humans would reprimand her for such conduct. She imagined their colonel shouting at her: _Haven't you done enough?_

Had she indeed.

She felt a slight tremble in her frame, a heavy, oppressive sensation in her chest, something that she hadn't experienced since Apollo's Rebellion.

From the short 'battle', she could recall with stark clarity every motion, every action, reaction. Every 'kill'. She had even laughed when she tapped her fake beam saber against the back of one Ricardo Sato, as she laid his body down upon the snow. It seemed fairly harmless at the time. It seemed like a game, it had been one. He hadn't gasped in pain for the briefest of instants as raw plasma burned through worthless armor and clothing. He hadn't spasmed as the sheer heat overloaded his nervous system, inducing the briefest of seizures. He simply fell over, and her onboard systems declared him **KIA: B-SBR TO TORSO**. He'd even been laughing, it had all been so surreal.

Now sitting among a room filled with dour faced, embittered professional soldiers, most of whom were 'dead', she felt...disgusting.

_I didn't have a care in the world. I was untouchable, invisible. The wonders I can witness, when the world around me seems to slow to a crawl, as I process more information in one second than a human does in an hour. It was just like a game, and the rules were stacked in my- in our favor to win._

If it had been so easy now, how easily would it be for her to shut out the sights, sounds, and smells of real combat against humans?

Hilde looked around the room for Ricardo, and found him several rows away, looking alien among the rest of the humans, his expression much lighter than the rest. She wanted to wave to him to get his attention, but controlled herself. Right then, more than anything, she wanted to be next to him, to speak to him and promise she would never go berserk, would never enjoy hunting down humans, even if it was a lawful order. She wouldn't change, she would always, always be his Hilde. His pointwoman, squad leader. He would always be the most important person in her life.

_Vanguard was made to be able to pre-emptively strike legitimate human and reploid targets. But who decides what is legitimate?_

_Could I do it? Could I really kill a human being? With no mercy, no regrets?_

For the first time, Hilde had doubts of her resolve to continue with Vanguard.

_**Wrath of Olympus**_

**The Yellow Sea**

There was no real celebration in the wake of the attacks despite their overwhelming success. For the first time, they'd had to pay a price in blood for gains whose real value had yet to be seen. It was a sobering thing to finally see the sacrifices necessary for the cause. The air on the ship seemed that much more still, with fewer crew members. The survivors of the operation were considered heroes, but they themselves hadn't felt very heroic, leaving their dead behind.

All five members of the Few sent to New York had died while accomplishing their objectives. Two fell at New Tokyo. While every soldier sent to China returned, three succumbed to their injuries, sustained when Maverick Hunters unexpectedly made themselves involved at the target facility, and needed to be put down. All in all, a very profitable trade, when looked at practically. Ten irreplaceable individuals in exchange for further strategic success. Now it was a matter of waiting.

Nike did not allow herself time to grieve, as she would have liked. _Too late to find your conscience __now, Nike. You sent those men on suicide missions. That any returned is remarkable, and to only weep __for the deaths of your own people ignores the suffering you've wrought, and what is to come._

For her at this moment, the world was not the command deck, the submarine, or even the ocean it lurked within. It was light, organized in a loosely defined sphere, pulses too fast for even her eyes to to detect making paths. These light paths branched off from eachother at set points, millions more lights, forming continents on that sphere. Orbiting everything were more lights still, the occasional streak lancing between them as they adjusted orbits to avoid one another.

She ran along these 'roads' oblivious to the trillions of distractions surrounding her virtual representation as she skated along The Network, hidden from the world.

It was dangerous to maintain a constant wireless connection from the ship under any circumstances, a sharp systems security expert would find it odd that something in the middle of the Yellow Sea was transmitting huge packet bursts constantly. It was better that only one burst was done. Her entire 'self' was independent of her body. She spent much of her time like this, seeking out weaknesses or information to exploit, systems to subvert. It had been her purpose in her previous life as a solid citizen.

The Net had grown into something that resembled a monster, expanding daily as new machines with connections to it were added. It wasn't limited to merely the Earth itself. Lights trailed from the largest sphere to smaller ones, representing the colonial developments that had scarcely begun in Earth's orbit. Some of those streaks of light found their way to the moon. Others still to SKYLIGHT. Even fewer reached further beyond the Earth sphere, the paths flickering unreliably, leading to long forgotten explorer robots on Mars, and fewer still reached further than that, leading beyond the grip of Sol, faint, almost unnoticeable and long forgotten.

This was her world, and few knew it with such thoroughness as she.

_You are distracted,_ Hecatonchire chided gently.

_I always marvel at how easily we've made divisions where none existed,_ she answered, looking back at the mass that represented Earth.

_Are my preparations satisfactory?_

_The system has the necessary slack. You were right, they have done much to restore its functionality._

_Structurally it is sound, despite the immediate damage to its core. It will survive maneuvers when the time comes, if repairs continue on schedule._

The representation of Nike looked somehow more striking than the real thing as she turned to face Hecatonchire, unencumbered by armor or weapons. A smiling pale beauty, hovering over a stream of light.

_What about personnel?_

_I modified the mandatory security program module that all reploids are required to have installed while on duty at the target. We'll have full access to all facilities, and it will significantly increase our available manpower, if the time comes._

_More than satisfactory, Hecaton. _She gestured to the Earth, seemingly so far away. _You seem eager to return._

_Gladly. I do not share the same fascination with the Network as you do._ The massive artillery reploid looked closer to a flawless body builder here, entirely at the behest of his commander, and he wasn't as amused about it as she.

_I will join you soon, then._

_I must ask you, about the casualties, you seemed...unsurprised. The data from MHHQ, was there anything valuable that we missed an opportunity to acquire?_

_I do mourn them, but I predicted much worse. I expected them to all die. I will have to revise our operational structure moving forward._ She looked tired quite suddenly, as she reclined in the nothingness. _The data...was more to inconvenience the Hunters. For the purposes of our objectives, it is inconsequential._

_It seems unlike you, to choose actions that could be considered discarding resources,_ Hecatonchire ventured softly.

_It will only get worse,_ she said simply.

_It will. What of Vile?_

_He performed exactly what I expected of him. His role in this is finished, I will see to that._

Hecatonchire saluted his commander, a holdover from his military days. _By your leave, ma'am._

She waved him away. He lingered a moment longer, watching her avatar's eyes as they filled with a kaleidoscope of images and color, her attentions much farther away. Without another word, she left the local network they had penetrated as another mote of light streaking far away, seeking out further data, as she always did. She'd likely not return to the ship for hours. He sighed, and his musclebound avatar flickered, and split in half, folding in on itself with a bright flash.

Back at the control center, he sat up from the maintenance bed, testing his physical connections. No unauthorized changes. His eyes locked onto the deathly still frame that was Nike, and he would not move from his place until her eyes opened six hours later.

* * *

Adam sat next to the resting Bernard, as technicians and mechaniloid apparatus fell upon his battered frame, the slow process of restoration continuing agonizingly slow. He hadn't left the side of his comrade since they'd returned. Others not connected to this private drama moved on to their own duties, ensuring that the warship was prepared for further combat operations. Anti-ship hyper-cavitation torpedoes were routinely dismantled, their individual parts inspected for potentially dangerous faults.

"I'll be fine, Adam. Go shut down, get some rest." Bernard's voice was not as it normally sounded, replaced by a generic voice his system's generated as technicians replaced his entire lower jaw. "They've got my replacement eye working, and they'll be reinspecting the parts Vile gave us. I'll be good to go soon."

"We should have linked up with the others sooner." Adam said for the tenth time since they'd returned from their mission. They hadn't met up with Vile at Jeju-do, but rather had warped to a pre-planned location that not even the Maverick had been privy to. After determining they hadn't been tracked, they warped directly to the sub. The less they had to deal with the likes of Sigma's lackeys, the better.

"We shouldn't have split our efforts between the city and MHHQ. You didn't get to have say in that part of the plan." Bernard chuckled as best as his temporary voice allowed for. "Nike did not seem distressed by the fact we didn't get the data."

"It probably wasn't even very important." Adam cradled his chin thoughtfully. "In debriefing she admitted that she did not expect any survivors from our operation." His expression darkened. "I understand the need for sacrifices. I'd have preferred being told what we were before we took the op."

"We did good beating that prediction. You did it right." Bernard reassured him.

Adam wanted to believe it.

"Sergeant-Major, we'd really appreciate it if you left the maintenance room." A technician said. "We're going to be shutting him down for the body work and inspection. You need to go and prepare for the same."

"Will he-"

"Relax. Bernard is already well outside of the danger zone." The technician was used to the worry his combat oriented brothers and sisters often displayed for each other, he'd been with the 1st RSF since it's inception. "You're not making this go any faster. I know you're concerned. He's in the best possible care that any combat reploid could find themselves in." Adam opened his mouth to protest, but remained silent. He knew the tech was right, and he bowed his head in defeat. Without another word, he staggered out of the room, towards his own waiting maintenance team.

**New Tokyo, Japan**

X left the Mifune residence after an hour, his heart heavy and his resolve thoroughly tested. He'd fought the urge to break down in front of the whole family, and had managed to succeed. The dead woman's husband had offered X tea, tried to make him feel at home. He felt confused, wondering why they would be so kind to someone who had failed them in some way.

"You did what you could," the husband had said quietly. "You have already done so much for our country, for our world. How could we hate you for being all too human?"

They asked how she died, if she had suffered, and X was able to answer truthfully that she never had a chance to feel much of anything before it was over. It was the kids that nearly broke the Hunter. They thanked him, again and again, for his service, for trying to save Mom. One was a recent graduate from university, and her own family of two little girls, aged three and four, had run up to the Blue Bomber, hugging his legs and asking why Gramma wasn't coming back. He had to excuse himself after that.

The extended Mifune family stood on the porch of the humble home, waving at the Hunter as he moved to his Ride Chaser. He snapped off a respectful salute, and was nearly crushed to see the two little ones return it awkwardly.

_He called me 'all too human'. Maybe I am, sometimes._

At the corner of his eye, an insistent Z icon blinked. X opened his communications line, the sender of the page already known to him.

"How we feelin', big guy?" Zero Omega sounded as he always did these days, a touch of confidence, a bit of amusement, a hint of sarcasm. He had a half grin plastered on his face, easily visible on the communications window.

"Could be better." X started, feeling worse by the moment. "God, Zero, I don't think I'll get used to this any time soon. One of her daughters had kids, for Godssake, how am I supposed to handle _kids_-"

"How'd it go?" Zero cut in.

"Better than I expected." X admitted. "I thought they'd be more upset with me. Just showing up, you know?"

"You ever think yer puttin' way more responsibility on your own head than ya oughta?" Zero asked pointedly.

"I'm a Hunter. Civilians are my priority, my responsibility." X replied, causing his friend to sigh in frustration.

"Get back here as soon as you can. Simulation Hall B." With that, Zero broke the connection.

X found himself well above the speed limit on the Chaser, a blue streak in the mid-day traffic, feeling quite alone in the world he was racing past.

* * *

X found Simulation Hall B to be completely dark and devoid of any detail, save for Zero, who sat alone at the center of the holographic deck as though he was meditating. The door to the outside slid shut with a barely audible hiss.

"I gotta ask you, X. You are aware that you're essentially going to be a regional Commander for the next few months, right?"

"Yes. Your point?" X tensed up physically. Zero sounded more prepared for a fight than a conversation.

"Ya know, Signas changed quite a bit, when the pressure was on, he did something none of us expected." Zero stood up, his hands surprisingly devoid of weaponry. "He talked to us. He admitted he was wrong, he admitted that he couldn't command with just his title and all the implied authority it came with." With that, he rushed X, as fast as ever, and he was unprepared to defend against the attack. He managed to take a single step back, his arms raising reflexively out of fear of the impact that never came. Zero's fist had stopped short of his face by inches.

"What the hell's your problem?" X shouted.

"Why haven't you talked to me about what you went through yesterday?" Zero shouted back. "I went through your data record of the fighting, you tried to keep all THAT to yourself?"

"I don't want to go back to it! I don't want to discuss it! It was...awful...Zero I did everything I could for those people, and it didn't mean any-"

This time, Zero didn't hold back, shifting his weight at superhuman speed with his second swing to land a solid right cross that flattened X to the floor. The impact was so powerful that the black background projection flickered, revealing the sterile white room behind it all for a few seconds. Warnings flashed across the HUD, reminding him that further impacts of that nature would be more problematic.

"Bullshit, X. That's bullshit! Don't want to talk about it? You need to! You're a wreck, you're letting the would haves and the could haves and what ifs turn you into a simpering idiot! You gonna go door to door, apologize to all the victims' families? Tell 'em some garbage that you weren't strong enough? Weren't good enough? We've been doing this for years, THIS is gonna be the one that breaks you? How the hell did you get through Sigma's First? Who is this X lying on the ground before me, 'cause it ain't the guy who's saved the goddamned world more times than we've both cared to count! That ain't Commander material, and you know it! This isn't the guy who pulled me away from Cain's Memorial two years ago and told me to get off my ass, move on, and stop trying to deal with everything on my own!" Zero's voice continued to grown in volume with each passing second. "Did you really think for one second that Vile, that all Mavericks are so lame you could just single-handedly retire 'em all, save everyone, call it day?"

"...No." X picked himself up from the ground slowly, settling his helmet on his head more firmly.

"I know, man. I know." Zero said as the background changed to Inter-prefecture Highway 16, December 7th, 8:45 AM. The destruction surrounding them was nightmarish, blasted open vehicles, corpses on the roadside, massive gouges torn out of the highway. All around them, hundreds of humans and reploids were frozen in time, faces full of fear as they fled as best they could, larger reploids carrying humans on their backs, smaller ones trying to guide survivors to emergency stairs on the roadside. And at the center of everything, frozen in all of his azure fury, was Mega Man X, buster aimed at the sky, a mortally wounded little girl cradled under his free arm.

"I failed that girl, I failed the old woman, I failed so many of them, Zero. I saw the attack coming, I saw the shells falling, the rockets firing, I couldn't intercept them in time. She's dead, Zero. So many dead, because I wasn't good enough-"

The next punch knocked his helmet free, and it clattered against the 'pavement' dully. This time X didn't get back up, he lay still, his eyes looking into the holographic sky, his eyes catching a glimpse of yet another barrage of rockets issuing from a Mitsubatchi, frozen in time.

"Neither was I." Zero snarled. "I wasn't good enough for Iris. I wasn't good enough here. Lotta folks died yesterday. If only I was stronger, faster, better than I am now, that's what yer thinkin'. I know that's what yer thinkin', X, 'cause I still think it every day. Every morning I wake up. Every time I put the helmet on, equip my armor and go to work, I think of all the ways I could be a more effective Hunter. I think about how I could have changed history, if I were a more effective machine." He kicked X's helmet hard enough that it bounced off of the walls of the simulation room, once again disrupting the illusion surrounding them as it stuck into the wall, badly dented. "I was there. I watched people get fragged in front of me, and it's the ugliest thing, the scariest thing. Here I am, a war machine, I was made to fight, and all of that tech, all of the skill, all of my experience didn't count for shit! I was as helpless as you, but I did the best I could! There was nothing more we could have done! You need to screw that head of yours on a whole lot straighter!"

"You don't need armors, you're strong enough without them!" X shouted back. "All of the training, everything I've done might have seemed like a benefit for you, but none of it applied yesterday! I was almost worthless on my own, and even with you and the 21st supporting me, I couldn't finish Vile, I couldn't finish what I started. I've NEVER finished what I've started!"

"Since when has all this rested solely on your head? It doesn't work like that X!" Zero nearly took another swing at the prone X, but held himself back. "You're the one who taught me that. This whole establishment taught me that. We can't do it all alone, that's why we do have Units that we lead, and sometimes even that's not enough. You need to accept that in a real hurry. You don't have the luxury of time, X."

He waited for X to answer, to say something, but his friend remained silent.

"X, I'm not just angry at you...I'm worried. Damnit, I can't stand seeing you like this. Not when you put me back on my feet when all I wanted to do was curl up and friggin' die." Another pause, and still nothing. Zero's expression grew pained. "Look. I'll recommend to Signas that he pulls you and the 17th off the assignment to New York. I'll take the slot with 0 Unit. You're going to get more people killed if you're going to sit around and feel sorry for yourself-"

That got X's attention. He was up in a flash, screaming incoherently at Zero, taking a wild swing that the Crimson Hunter casually leaned out of the way of before stepping in, grabbing X, lifting him up over his shoulder and slamming him back down harshly, locking the arm X had attacked with in such a way that he could easily twist it off if necessary.

Zero looked down at his friend, a sad expression on his face.

"I hate doing this to you, X. I know you don't want to talk about it, I know you feel like shit, but you're my friend." Zero let the arm go. "I'm here for you. I always have been. Like you've always been here for me. We're Hunters. We're part of one big extended family. We're never alone. Unless you want to be. You told me something like that, once, if I recall correctly. Now I'm telling it to you. Talk to me, if not me, Gavin, he's tearing himself up over Nana, over his own losses." Zero started to walk away, the door exiting the simulation opening for him. "I guarantee you, you did everything that was expected of you and more."

It was silent between the two for few minutes. X sobbed once, but kept himself under control.

"When's it going to end, Zero?" X asked as Zero reached the exit. "I'm tired of not seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. Vile brought back some...unpleasant memories."

"We're all in that same tunnel. If you have something you need to get off your chest, you can't keep it to yourself. Just like you've always been there for me, I'm here for you. My advice isn't as gentle, but ah, I think it gets my message across." Zero managed to smile at his friend. "We'll find Vile, find those Mavericks, pay 'em back a hundred times over." X finally stood up, walking over to Zero, shaking his head.

"Kick my ass into gear, that was your plan?"

"That about sums it up." Zero flicked back his lengthy blonde ponytail, trying to act nonchalant.

"Damnit, Zero, I just-" X planted a fist into the doorway. "I know we did what we could, I know it, but it never feels like it's enough. And the stink of it? They got away with it all, they came here, they hurt us, killed us, and they managed to slip away from our grasp." His voice was breaking now, as he punctuated each statement with a punch to the doorway, threatening to break through it. "So they can do it again, and they will! We know they will, and there'll be more victims. How many times do we have to pick up what's left of the innocent? How long are we going to pay the price for the status quo?"

"Can't win 'em all, X. We're only expected to try." Zero rested a hand on X's shoulder. "Look. You got a couple days to decompress before you actually deploy. If you need to talk, or just another beating, I'm here. Always am, friend. Always will be."

X nodded, unable to face Zero, resting his forehead against the doorway, his eyes tightly shut, fighting the release he badly needed.

"You gonna be alright?" Zero asked softly.

"I think so."

Zero took a tentative step away, wanting to say more, but knowing that he'd said enough.

"Thanks...for being here." X said.

"Wouldn't be much of a friend if I wasn't." Zero waited a moment longer before turning to walk away.

Other Hunters who wanted to use the simulation room saw the Blue Bomber in the doorway in that state, and respectfully gave him his space, moving on to a different simulator. They knew what he was experiencing. Commanders, even the likes of X, were merely mortals in the end.

* * *

As Zero rounded a corner, he was only half surprised to find that Signas was leaning against the wall, his arms crossed, seemingly lost in thought. Zero knew better. In the short time he'd known Signas, he'd learned that the Commander was never not paying attention to his people, not since 2131.

"I think he'll be alright." Zero muttered. "We're all tore up over this...but we'll drive on. He'll drive on. We have to."

"Then there is no need for me to say anything else. Not that I am the greatest motivational speaker." Signas grunted.

"I believed you during the ceremony." The Hunter smirked. "He needed to get some of it out of his system, sir."

"We all do." Signas said quietly. "We simply do not always have the luxury."

"I do recommend keeping 0 Unit on standby to support the 17th. Just in case. I figure that'll work well with your contingencies."

"I have a feeling that will not be necessary. I have learned to have more faith in my people when it is warranted."

Zero exaggerated a closer inspection of his commanding officer. "You don't appear to be suffering from head injuries...everything seems normal..."

"Not necessarily normal, but I am managing."

**Camp Rus**

**Ural Mountains**

Hypatia was relieved to see the transports arrive from Site Alfa, noting that none of the emergency personnel who had been assigned to watch over the exercise in the event of serious injury or sickness appeared to preoccupied with patients. She'd been able to spend the majority of the exercise in relative comfort, and her Spetsnaz guard had finally relaxed to the point that she didn't feel like he was sizing her up as a potential threat. Not that she would have blamed him if he'd returned to those ways. As soon as the exercise had been declared complete, she'd received immediate data bursts from the five Vanguard personnel who'd been tapped to play the role of the bad guys this time. What they told her was a little unsettling.

"It's over." Morozoy's voice was filled with anticipation. He wanted to hear for himself how everything had unfolded. While he'd managed to make conversation with Hypatia without constantly referring to it, seeing the people in training return ahead of schedule had him chomping at the bit. He needed to know. It was the earnest manner in which he carried himself that Hypatia found rather endearing. All of the Spetsnaz she'd met had been surprisingly polite given that she was a reploid, but like Morozoy, they would probably transform at a moments notice to the trained killers they were once in the field. She'd seen hints of it, during drills where soldiers not at the exercise practiced a variety of ways to break another man on one another. When maintenance reploids were brought onto the training mats to simulate real reploid opponents, their intensity only seemed to increase in response to the greater threat. She respected and feared these men.

"What will happen, after all of this? To you, I mean."

"My comrades and myself will likely be stationed closer to to the Chinese border. Regulars will likely take over the protection of such facilities."

"Isn't that somewhat provocative? My knowledge of military and political affairs is limited, mostly due to personal preference. But if word got out that Spetsnaz were deploying near the border, wouldn't that inspire a response of behalf of the Chinese?"

The young man's smile had taken an almost predatory nature. "Then we will have accomplished something of value already. Best that they think twice of the consequences for committing to a war against the Russian Federation. 'Rus' was once disbanded when it appeared there would be no need for units like our own, meant to penetrate the enemy lines and disrupt as much of their facilities as possible before the real weight of our military fell upon theirs. When the Wars started, we were reformed out of necessity. We always have been a unit meant to be on the offensive. Our history as a combat unit, the history of the Spetsnaz, is enough to give pause to the enemy. The closer we are to the border, the sooner we can accomplish objectives in the event of a worst case scenario."

_God be with them, _Hypatia mused. "Do you really think there will be war?"

"It is not my place to decide. I am preparing for it." The young man's face brightened. "I should have asked sooner. Do you know the results of the exercise? You are a reploid, so I imagine that you've been told by your own friends."

"Do not take this the wrong way." Hypatia frowned, wanting to avoid this bit of conversation. She felt his gaze as though it were a physical thing bearing down upon her."I have enjoyed the time I've spent with you as my assigned guard and-"

"So we lost." He sounded disappointed.

"Oleg I-" her voice caught for a moment. Out of personal curiosity she'd dug through personnel files to find out what his first name was. He hadn't volunteered the information himself. "I have a great respect for everything I've observed. I did not want-"

"To insult us?" He laughed. "You are afraid of us, like we are afraid of your kind."

"In my experience, humans have not taken well to being supplanted by reploids."

"You wouldn't have supplanted me by telling me the truth." he chastised her. "How bad?"

"They said that if it had been a real attack, there would have been perhaps twenty survivors." Hypatia wasn't able to imagine just how terrible the violence would have been. She'd seen humans be hurt and killed, but had more experience with reploids and the specific challenges their injuries presented. The idea of hundreds of humans slaughtered by combat machines was seemingly more unsettling to her than it was to him. She also didn't want to admit that she'd come to care for Oleg Morozoy and his people as though they were some sort of extended family to the people she'd watched over in MSWAT and now Vanguard.

"We are told by our commanders that no matter how hard we train, should we ever encounter a reploid combatant, it is best evade contact, or fight it as a group. Alone, despite our training, despite our physical strength and speed being near the peak of human performance, we will never match the best of your kind."

"But you still prepare for it. I watched it myself, I tended to the broken bones afterward. The reason for it all escapes me, especially if you know it is essentially suicide."

"If we simply gave into the fear, if we did not have the courage ingrained into us, if we didn't train for even an impossible situation, then what good would men accomplish on a battlefield dominated by machines?"

Hypatia couldn't bring herself to answer that question.

* * *

With the exercise completed, the 1st RSF and Vanguard immediately set themselves to the task of prepping the AC-177 transport for the return flight back to the United States. Everyone wanted to continue cross training to some extent, the Spetsnaz were especially eager for another shot at the reploids now that the weather was turning more favorable. Unfortunately, that wasn't something that political leaders were allowing for. It was already a somewhat dangerous affair to have AmeriCanadian units in Russia, even for something as simple as training. Too much could be read from such an action, even if nothing sinister had been intended. Maintenance beds and other equipments was being quickly hustled aboard the massive craft. They'd be home by the end of the day.

Erebus was not taking part in the preparations to leave Camp Rus. He and General Lenneth were sitting down together while going over the after-action reports from the ten reploids they'd chosen to act as the enemy for the exercise. He felt awkward sitting next to her, her resemblance to Nike unsettling to him. In general, he found being around the 1st RSF was bringing back memories of his own time in the military, a time he'd been trying harder and harder to shove to the back of his mind.

"I understand that one of the Mavericks you're interested in is similar in appearance to myself." She'd said out of the blue. To her credit and his surprise, Lenneth was not ignorant to his discomfort.

"Well, US Army reploids aren't known for many unique designs." Erebus poorly hid his surprise by focusing more on his data pad. "Why the interest?"

"I never really spoke often with General Apollo before he went Maverick. He was the General of his unit, and I was the General of mine. My second in command, Siegfried, looks almost exactly like him, save for height of course. I knew I wasn't an entirely unique model myself, I knew of Nike's existence, but that was it. It is interesting to me, to see how different I have become from my counterpart." Lenneth relaxed against the shipping containers they were using for seats. "I suppose I am curious of the motivations the 2nd RSF had, and how it relates to your special project."

"He was probably just mad at the world, he never let it go. I think we all were, after 2124. There they were, trying to justify pulling the plugs on reploids everywhere. A year later, we watched a country of human beings turn on each other. You were there, you saw what they did to one another. You can read about the atrocities humans have committed upon their own kind, but it's entirely different to experience first hand."

"You agree with Apollo? That the GDC is ineffective, that it should be taken down?" Lenneth sounded genuinely interested in the direction this was headed. The neutral tones of her voice had given way to youthful curiosity.

"I suppose in a way, I'm worse than he is." He looked at the roof of the cargo bay, through it. "When we returned home in 2125, we were all disillusioned by what we witnessed, the people we served, the system we were a part of. Apollo blamed the GDC for failing to act sooner, for misplacing its priorities on The Maverick Problem, when human beings around the world were all to happy to beat in the skulls of their fellows across the third world for scraps of food. When real suffering that could be resolved presented itself, they ignored it to try and make a statement. As for me, I blamed humanity itself. They made us, used us, and blamed us for their problems, just like they did with every new piece of technology that came about they ended up misusing." Laughing, he added, "There were days when I wouldn't have shed one tear if the human race up and vanished off the face of the Earth."

"Something changed. You'd be dead right now otherwise, or you'd be in hiding with the others who fled from Los Angeles."

"Eventually, I just walked away from the military. Didn't feel like being considered government property, didn't believe that change could come from within without something to nudge it along, but I didn't believe that something was us. Specifically, I didn't believe that I could be a part of something like that. But what's a war machine supposed to do with his life? Go into construction?"

"Some do."

"I tried it out, hated it. I tried roughing it, but that didn't appeal either. I joined the Hunters for six months when I realized I was feeling alone in the world, but they weren't a good replacement for what I left behind. MSWAT ended up providing that. I figured if I could have a small team of competent, like minded folks, doing something good for the average human or reploid, against a credible threat, I would be satisfied, I'd be in control. Live a life of danger on call for a few years, leave an unidentifiable corpse. It worked out for a while, until Apollo made his move. I never thought he'd do something like that. We were all angry but we all moved on, so I thought." The Captain felt much older than he truly was just then.

"I just realized how much I'd changed." He continued, sounding distant. " There I was, content to pretend I was making a difference in my own small way. Utterly helpless in the face of someone determined to do what they felt was necessary to make a difference, consequences be damned. Sitting around, waiting for the bad thing to happen so we could finally do something about it. I'd become what I had been so upset with, and worse than that, I'd managed to drag good people into MSWAT and made them more or less like myself. That had to change. I looked at my options, my resources, and what they were capable of after the Rebellion got smothered. I don't see the point of keeping the guard dogs on a leash, when they'd do a lot better going out there and forcing the enemy out of hiding, killing him before he can victimize more innocents."

Lenneth shook her head. "It sounds as though you have survivor's guilt. Perhaps even a little jealousy for your old commander."

"Nothing wrong with that. He took action for something he believed in, even if it was wrong in the end. Compared to him, I'd done nothing with the life I'd been given except follow orders. Just another part of the problem."

"I suppose I am similar to you." The General stood from her seat. "I've tried to improve the relations of my unit with the humans in the military for some time. I've begun to see how futile those efforts may have been. I can't bring myself to act in any other way, it seems. Duty is all I've known, the only way I know how to strive for acceptance of our kind. It all seems like it is slipping further away."

"That's why I'm taking the chances I am now." Erebus said. "I can't accomplish anything just sitting within the system and waiting to be given permission to do the right thing."

"That is rather selfish of you." Lenneth smiled. "Vanguard is just an extension of your own will. I'll have to revise my opinion of you, Captain."

"Revise it all you want." He stowed the data pad in a small carrier attached to his thigh. "I'm interested in tangible results that forward the interests of the people we protect. Mavericks and terrorists have been getting those for years for their own causes. I don't think we can save the world on our own from our enemies, but it's a step in the right direction. If the governments of the world can't step up, if the organizations that do are being overwhelmed, someone, _something_ has to fill in those gaps."

"I look forward to seeing this unfold." She snapped off a salute to the Captain, her eyes locking onto his. "The world needs more initiatives like yours."

"The military needs more like you. By the way, you don't have to salute me."

"Are you asking me to disrespect you?"

He chuckled. "I suppose I am."

"I refuse."

**December 9th, 2133 6:09 PM**

**GDC Headquarters**

**Amsterdam, The Netherlands**

Amsterdam had, through good fortune, avoided the worst of the wars of 2040 and 2090, quickly becoming the political center of much of the EU out of necessity. When the GDC arose to take the place of the failed United Nations, Amsterdam made for a proper home for a powerful world body. It had also been a statement of sorts against the United States, who had been blamed by many for its inaction leading to the conflicts of the 2090s, for having stymied the UN response to matters before they'd gotten out of hand. Eventually, the US ejected the former world union out of New York. The real story behind it all was considerably more complicated, but for most, a simple 'drawing of sides' would suffice. Some drew the connection between that and the recent withdrawal from the GDC as further signs that the super power refused to relinquish its influence in world affairs, that it would continue its unilateral actions as part of AmeriCanada. History had yet to give credence to those fears.

It was a beautiful city, declared a historic preserve by the GDC and recognized as such even by non-member states, it continued to be an amalgam of an older world and the newer one. Reploids and humans dedicated long hours to restoring and repairing structures and landmarks that dated as far back as the 17th century. Much of the most developed and advanced parts of the city were actually at the outskirts, leaving its center a strange combination of 19th, 20th, and 21st century architecture, ringed by the arcologies and other megastructures capable with modern technology.

_Hell of a view from up here, good way to remind yourself what's at stake._ Johnathan Spencer often came to the roof of the GDC tower, one of the few 'new' structures in the center portion of Amsterdam, whenever he'd felt troubled about his job. That, and it was the only place he could light up a cigar while he was at the office. The GDC HQ was strictly a non-smoking facility internally.

Spencer was pushing seventy, and hated every moment of it. The former SAS operative still maintained a military cut for his hair, still ran every morning, but he would never again be out on the pointed end of the sharp stick the GDC was forced to wield these days. His soldiering days came to a halt in 2099, probably for the best. He couldn't leave behind his military days entirely. When the GDC came into being, a world organization that actually needed a centralized military branch, he'd been at the top of several lists to be Chief of GDC Intelligence. He'd seen no reason to retire from his post, and there wasn't any call for him to step down.

The sound of a warp-exit emanated from behind Spencer, and he turned to face the source. He was greeted by a face he hadn't seen in person for nearly three years now.

"Hello, Johnathan." Signas said warmly, as he stepped forward to shake Spencer's hand.

"Signas! Bloody Christ, you haven't aged a day." They shared a laugh at the shallow joke. "There are still a number of people upset with you about the Hunters. Commendable of you to step into the lion's den of your own volition, you're not due back here for another month."

"Well, the lions have something I want. Shall we take a walk?"

"Where to?" Spencer's expression hardened. _Like me, straight to business._

"When I was being acclimated to the general human population in Amsterdam, we'll go to that park."

"The easier to find the people watching over me?"

Signas' expression saddened. "Even the Chief of GDCINT is under surveillance."

"It's the way of things these days, lad. Surprised you didn't know that, or at least I'm surprised you're pretending to not know that. You may still report to the Security Council every month, but I suppose you're out of the loop."

"Not entirely by choice." Signas allowed some anger to seep into his voice. "My North American Hunters have essentially been hung out to dry."

"I fought that as hard as I could, Signas. The Hunters shouldn't be a part of politics, and they provided a needed service across the globe. The Security Council didn't want to let go of a chance to sprinkle salt on fresh wounds unfortunately. I'm just an intelligence man, so apparently my opinion need only be considered." Spencer's gaze returned to the skyline as he puffed on a cigarette. "It's the 2090's all over again, Signas. We're falling apart from within. There's been cracks in the foundation before, we don't have a spotless record. September 10th happens, we lose the one of the largest military and economic contributions to the organization overnight. Now this awful business with China and Russia."

"As with the United Nations, history repeats itself."

"It's been nothing short of a nightmare to keep up with. My best analysts have been briefing the Security Council daily since the Kaminov facility was hit." The old man pointed to the elevator that he'd taken to the roof. "Lets take that walk. You don't stop me now, we'll be here all night."

* * *

Spencer's limp hadn't gotten any better over time, and Signas found it distressing to watch a former warrior forever crippled in some way. If a reploid was injured, they could simply have parts swapped out, entire bodies reconstructed, and they'd be good as new. For most humans, there were bionics that could be used to restore full mobility of the legs or the arms, at least for daily functionality. The additional strain to their circulatory and immune systems in accepting artificial limbs was not something every body could handle successfully. Spencer's injury had been spinal in nature, an area that prosthesis had yet to fully succeed in, and when he'd been injured the technology simply was a topic of discussion. So he limped on, and Signas found reason to thank the fates he was born a reploid. Fortunately, they'd been able to take a vehicle to the park, so he didn't have to hear the occasional grunt of discomfort from Spencer the entire way there.

"It's a revolving surveillance team, three men usually on a given shift." Spencer practically collapsed onto a park bench, wincing as he did. "Of course, nothing I'm about to tell you is going to break operational security, which means you're probably not going to get the answers you'd like."

"Fair enough." Signas sat down next to the old man, towering over him as he did. An image of the pair could have made some money for the amusing juxtaposition of small man and tall machine. "I lost Hunters in China yesterday. They went in response to the attack on an energen facility, upon request of the city of Beijing's government for a rapid response. Your office has blocked my access to the footage of their final mission. Why?"

"That's not nearly as bad as I expected." Spencer replied after a thoughtful pause. "For one, the Maverick Hunters are not considered an actual part of the GDC's military power, so there are certain things Hunters themselves would not be privileged to access. After the attack on New Tokyo and New York, it was deemed unsafe to have Hunters access sensitive information on the battle that took place in the Chinese facility. The issue has been escalated to a military matter."

"So you cannot you tell me Mavericks were involved?"

"There is no way of knowing from the footage alone." Spencer lit up another cigarette. "I can't give that data to you. Out of the question. I can only tell you that it's exactly what we didn't want to have happened."

Signas decided to try a different tack. "Let us deal in hypotheticals."

"Hypothetically, the Russians blow up a Chinese facility in response to Mavericks attacking their own. The Chinese walk away from talks in regards to their border build up. Simple, cut and dried, and leaves the GDC in the position to step in a protect a major economic and military partner, or remain neutral."

"The flight recorder data on the Russian polycraft that responded to the incident in the Urals showed a Chinese transport fleeing the scene."

"Hypothetically, a Chinese transport. It's easy to spoof an IFF signal, if reploids are involved. In truth, the Chinese ran a count on all of their small scale polycraft troop transports that could have reached the Russian facility. They have no missing craft, no recorded unscheduled flights. Nothing that could incriminate their involvement. All reploid personnel had been interviewed for their location during the first attack in Russia, and the Chinese could account for all of their testimony."

"Things that could easily be manipulated, just like an IFF signal, and just like the evidence you claim to have." Signas cut in. "It sounds like the GDC has already made up its mind about this."

"Hypothetically, the Russians, feeling economic pressure from its largest southern neighbor, and failing to work out an agreement with the Mongolians to allow Russian miners access to untapped resources within their borders, blow up their largest and most important energen refinery, and pin it on the Chinese, unofficially at this time. They use this as an excuse to further increase their troop levels at their shared border, and simultaneously consider all GDC Maverick Hunters within the Russian Federation the property of the state, and reassign them to active military units close to the border."

"If they were really executing a false flag operation, why would they immediately go on the offensive in such limited fashion? There is no tactical or strategic sense in sacrificing surprise for a mere statement. "

"We can't fathom every single thing that goes on in the minds of policymakers around the world." Spencer was burning through his cigarette quickly, as though he hadn't been getting enough nicotine before Signas arrived. "This part isn't theory. The fact is that there exists evidence that suggests the Russians are responsible for the attack in China."

"And of course, they too are interviewing personnel who could have pulled off such a stunt, and they are also checking their own vehicle inventory records."

"As you've established, all easily manipulated."

"Neither side has made open accusations just yet. There's no possible connection between the recent Maverick activity whatsoever?"

"Still hung up about that American special ops reploid gone Maverick. Nike was it? I read the report on her infiltration, and I understand the threat she and the others she vanished with represent. That's in the Yanks jurisdiction. They'll deal with it in their own way. Unilaterally, and without asking us for permission to go where they aren't invited, I imagine. As far as the accusations are concerned, I imagine nobody is willing to commit to the final steps of this whole charade yet. The longer this can be dragged out, the longer the culprits can prepare for what is to come."

"_It is not just their problem when I am burying people from my command._" Signas replied heatedly. "Mavericks have used terror tactics in order to influence decision making at the highest levels of the GDC. You know what that almost lead to. These recent incidents are too convenient, and come at the worst possible times. It would be a mistake to discount my theory now."

"We are well aware of these things, General. We know that Nike is not alone. We know that one of the higher ranking Mavericks to have escaped US custody with her struck a Japanese base days before the attack on New Tokyo. We know the Mavericks used an experimental JSDF Ride Armor during that attack, a weapon system that did come from the stricken Nerima Base. None of that can be directly correlated with the incidents in Asia outside of the timing."

"Then surely you see how costly such early judgments could be."

"As surely as you see how a passionate argument backed by loosely related evidence could be just as bad, if not worse. What would you have us do? Announce to the the Russians and the Chinese 'we think Mavericks did it, please put away your guns or at least point them at the correct enemy? When we find them, of course. Just stand by until then chaps, we'll have it all sorted out in due time. We might even sweeten up the deal and have real evidence that points in that direction!' You'd expect them to listen?"

Signas decided there was nothing more he could bring up, nothing further he could argue, and stood to leave. "I seem to have wasted our time coming here. My apologies."

"I knew you would be upset with what I had to say. I'm sorry, but GDCINT hasn't found the particular needles in the haystack you're looking for." Spencer stood up, grunting with effort, taking care to not drop his smoke. "Not for lack of effort, mind you. We did take your reports and recent incidents into account. I can promise you that."

"It's really going to happen." Signas muttered. "Another war between superpowers."

"Just a question of when." Spencer took one last drag before breaking into a coughing fit, dropping the smoldering stub to the brick path way. "I should quit. My ex-wife still tells me I should." He tried to lean forward to pick up his stub, but couldn't fight through his back pain to even come close to reaching it.

Signas easily knelt down to grab it for the old man. As his fingers closed around the small stub, he froze for a moment, squeezing it gently before taking it into his palm.

"Littering comes with a terrible fine these days." Johnathan Spencer gave Signas a weary salute. "It was good to see you again, lad. Even if it was business related only. You've become a good commander, and a good soldier."

"I was built for it. Fulfilling my functions is simply what is expected of me, is it not?"

"We're all built for something, humans or reploids. It's what we do with what we've been given that matters most." With that, the chief of GDCINT walked towards his waiting vehicle. Lacking all matter of subtlety, three well dressed men stood from their posts all around where he and Signas had chatted, responding the beckoning gesture of their charge. They'd looked fairly discreet despite the fact they all wore the same style and color business suits. In silence they escorted Spencer to his car, and that was that.

Signas squeezed the filtered tip of the cigarette stub, seeing something very small and round break free and roll to the center of his palm.

_I understand._

Warping back to HQ had suddenly become out of the question. He took another glance of his surroundings, checking for anything or anyone who could have been observing him in that moment.

"Signas to MHHQ."

"General Signas, Operator Mana reads you loud and clear. The transport pad is cleared and waiting for you." Mana's voice was unfamiliar to the General, he assumed it was one of the new Operators the GDC had promised. _They certainly work fast when they want to._

"Unnecessary. I need a Ride Chaser near my coordinates. I have a cleared zone for it."

"Right away, sir." There was a short pause. "The armory says they'll have a Chaser on their pad within thirty seconds. Is something wrong, General?"

He looked at the tiny object in his palm as discreetly as possible. "It depends on what I find. I should be back within the hour."

* * *

Spencer frowned as he sat down in his vehicle, watching as a beam of light streaked down from the sky next to Signas, turning into a standard issue Land Chaser. The reploid betrayed no sense of urgency in his movements has he pulled out ahead of Spencer's black sedan, waving once more at the Chief before weaving his way into traffic. _I've done my part._

"Did your meeting go well, sir?" His driver asked. A good man, former SAS himself, though he was barely thirty, a child compared to Spencer. He was also likely one of the men assigned to report on his Chief's activities, but Spencer did not feel animosity towards him, were that true. Soldiers were expected to do the jobs they were assigned.

"About as well as I'd hoped." Spencer reached towards the seat mounted flat panel display, tuning into the international news. In bold font scrolling across the bottom of the screen was the major headline of the hour, the man in the expensive suit at the news desk looking grim as he addressed the camera.

Five minutes later, he was reaching for his sat-phone, speed dialing the GDC Defense Minister.

* * *

The ride out of Amsterdam had been easy, once he was out of the city and on one of the major freeways, he was essentially beyond the reach of traditional ground surveillance. Local satellite cover or polycraft on station at high altitudes presented their own specific issues, but there were other ways around that. He pulled up to a fueling station that looked busy enough, making a subtle sweep of the attendants and the customers charging up their hydrogen cells, comparing them with the hundreds of GDC personnel files he'd accessed from some time ago, finding no-one suspicious. He was one of six reploids at the station that he could detect, and his audio sensors did not detect the subtle hum of therm-optical cloaks. So far so good.

A quick witted attendant jogged up to Signas as he pulled up, asking him in Dutch if he needed assistance.

"Could you check the power cell on this? HQ might have sent me a depleted Chaser." He flashed the young man his GDC security badge. He dismounted the bike and strode towards a shaded overhang before he heard the reply, taking the small chip from its hiding place on his chest plate and slipping it into a port located just behind his right ear. Almost immediately, official GDC seals appeared on a small window in the corner of his vision. Johnathan Spencer appeared on the display as haggard as he had back at the park.

"As per the Security Council's request, my department has gone over the available data rigorously over the last twelve hours, in regards to the simultaneous attacks." Spencer began. "We have organized all available footage from various sources, and they are available for your perusal on this e-document. Per your requests, we have instituted a data manipulation operation to ensure the sensitive information from the fallen Hunters in China does not leak to any external sources, though we cannot determine if Chinese authorities were able to extricate any data after the departure of GDC Intelligence operatives."

* * *

"He's under some overhang at a fueling station."

"Can we get a better angle on him?"

"We can orbit back around, lower altitude. He's smart, he knows he's being watched, that will alert him."

"Thermal?"

"Sats and our cams can make him out on thermal, but no distinct details."

"Contact the Chief."

* * *

Signas stepped into the station, looking and feeling out of place. An eight foot titan wandering the narrow aisles of junk food and car related items. To others, he looked as though he were browsing the candies. His mind was somewhere else. North of Beijing on December 7th, specifically at a government owned large scale energen refinery. The image was filled with static, smoke and flame, but he could hear insistent pleading on behalf of the Hunter whose PoV Signas was seeing the last moments of.

"Send help...the enemy are not Mavericks..." She was gasping and gurgling at the same time, indicating some form of catastrophic physical damage, but the data record did not show her HUD. "...if I am being received by anyone on any frequency, contact the Northern Military District Command! The North Beijing Energen Refinery has been attacked by military units of unknown origin!"

That was when he saw it. It was a black shape, highlighted by the flames in the background, but it was distinct. His own databases scanned the object, confirming it as a ride armor, but the angle and image quality was such that his systems weren't able to match its silhouette with anything on his database.

Then it turned to fully face the dying Hunter, a massive arm pointing it's heavy plasma cannon at her, energy building up within the focusing chamber. Signas felt his whole body tense as the Hunter screamed in terror, bringing her hands up as though they would stop the oncoming storm of plasma. The video froze as an outline drew itself around the ride armor, and Spencer's narration returned.

"We've poured over the data we managed to recover from our Hunters and local surveillance equipment that survived the demolition of the facility. Our local agents arrived on the scene three hours before the bulk of the Chinese response units arrived, and we believe we recovered most of the incriminating evidence. Nothing is guaranteed, of course." The highlighted Ride Armor was moved off the image next to a front profile image of another Armor that more or less matched the shape. "From what we gather, we can confirm the presence of at least eight Nevsky model ride armors who were involved in the attack. As we are all aware, this is the general purpose heavy mecha used by the Russian Federation's ground forces. Different configuration from what we usually see, usually they have ballistic weapons on the arms. Plasma's impossible to determine the source though, if we didn't have this footage, we'd be in the dark."

_Images can be altered, but the fact remains that Hunters and Chinese citizens are dead, and it looks like Russians are responsible._

"We've quietly had a talk with the Russian Ministry of Defense. They claim they authorized no such action. Same as the Chinese claiming that whatever transport of theirs was detected in Russian airspace was never authorized, nor do they have records of any such flights of military craft in that direction. The problem we face now is we have an attack, and we have a response to said attack." Spencer looked gravely at the camera. "Gentlemen, you want my opinion, and you want the analysis from my department, so I will give it. Given the swiftness of these events, and given the political situation between non-aligned nations and the GDC, war is all but inevitable at this point. It is recommended to treat this as a regional conflict and nothing more. Overt support of China, one of our largest military and economic contributors, may result in serious repercussions among non-aligned powers, in particular the AmeriCanadian Alliance."

Stopping the video file, Signas marched out of the fueling station, past the attendant who was trying to tell him that he hadn't been able to determine anything wrong with the Chaser. As the young man spoke, he caught the look on the Hunter Commander's face, and fell silent, quickly excusing himself as the Chaser started up with a roar, and shot away onto the main road once more.

_The whole world's going mad,_ Signas thought. _Here I was, thinking there was something I could do about it. Something that we Hunters, the protectors of humanity, could do about it. If those really were Russian units, there's no way to prove Maverick involvement other than coincidence. We've got nothing, we're still too many steps behind the enemy. Damn damn _damn!

As he rode away, another window opened up on his HUD, Spencer looking very distressed on it.

"Signas. The Chinese government just walked out of negotiations with the Russian ambassador in Beijing. The Russians are closing down their embassy, calling home all civilian staff. There's to be an official statement within the hour."

"I have an idea why."

"Indeed." Spencer raised an amused eyebrow. "You did well to evade my people."

"Tell them they need more practice." Signas managed a smile. "I could tell them myself if you would be so kind to provide me with the correct radio frequencies."

"Haven't you done enough?" Spencer was lighting up yet another smoke. "Best not to burn old bridges, boy. One more piece of advice, since I assume, based on what my surveillance people are saying, you're about to warp home."

"I see no reason to not listen."

"You made it fairly clear to me that you want to get your people involved in this somehow. The smart money says you'd be better off burying your dead and getting on with your lives. If you have to be involved, do be discreet."

"What will the GDC do now?"

"I will be pushing for caution at the emergency meeting we've called. I suggest you give your American friend the same advice. Interesting unit concept, I must say. We'll see how long it lasts, given the Yanks are cutting back on their own Reploid units. Several Democratic party senators are demanding an emergency session in their congress in regards to the 'military reploid problem'. This close to Christmas, normally that wouldn't get much of a response. Next year's an election year however, and this is a platform that's been building momentum in the US since 2126."

The comment about his new contact in the US caught Signas off guard, but he didn't let it show. "Right then. Try to keep me in the loop, if at all possible."

"Indeed. Let me ask you one last thing." The old man had leaned back in his seat, and he looked as though he were remembering something else. "For what are you doing all this? Some of the people whom you and yours protect would just as readily see you all dismantled. The people you serve and take orders from do not trust your kind."

"When I was assigned to the Hunters, it was to bring them under the firm control of the GDC, to replace Doctor Cain. When I saw that all I had done was nearly bring the organization to its knees, when I saw what it was that made them as effective as they are I could not bring myself to complete that mission. It is the only assignment I have ever failed to accomplish, and I do not regret it." Signas admitted.

"I have tried to the best of my ability to live up to the legacy of Cain, to be a good and proper commander to my men and women. To support them to the best of my ability. To be that leader they would gladly follow into a battle, and inspire them to greater heights. At every turn I am hobbled, by my own inexperience with the world, as I lead reploids and men and women who have fought Mavericks for longer than I have been alive, and by the bureaucracy I am beholden to. This year alone, I am responsible for the deaths of one hundred and six Hunters in my direct command, sixty two in a single day." The commander's emotions began to crack through to the surface. "I do not know if my efforts have been in vain, or if I have made progress, but I refuse to simply be a mere observer to these events. I know my people feel the same." The Hunter Commander pulled off to the side of the road, dialing in a series of coordinates on the Ride Chaser's keypad. "The GDC seems bound and determined to let this all play out. I believe it can be stopped. That is my motivation."

Johnathan Spencer sat back in his seat, nodding approvingly. "You have truly turned out to be better than anyone expected of a 'failure'."

"I come with a custom built electronic mind of the highest precision, but more importantly, I had good instructors."

"Well you certainly picked up flattery while you've been away from HQ." Spencer chuckled. "Try to visit more often, won't you?" With that, the connection was severed. A moment later, Signas and his Ride Chaser were a silver bolt of light traveling into the evening sky.

**Los Angeles, California**

Arriving home in somewhat grand style, Vanguard had slipped easily back into its MSWAT act with no real delays and no Time Off requests, a welcome surprise to Erebus. He'd elected to allow them a relaxed training schedule for the coming few days, giving his Vanguard a chance to recuperate. Small cadres of teammates gathered to work on small unit tactics, others went to the firing range. There'd be no runs at the Kill House, no playing hostage, Maverick, and MSWAT for now.

For the moment, Erebus was browsing the Network, checking for any data points that his contacts at the US intelligence agencies had given him on the recent events. Nothing concrete on his targets, but plenty of regional strength estimates about the Chinese-Russian border.

_I guess I shouldn't be surprised that Nike's forces aren't dropping us any hints here._ _We know they warped out, but the transfer network likely was compromised by her. There are other ways to track that sort of activity. I need satellite feeds of those attacks. Doesn't have to be anything military. Check for large data transmission spikes from abnormal locations, get people on the ground to check it out. She can't be everywhere at once._

Lenneth's face appeared in on his HUD, surprising him. They'd offered to maintain contact after the exercise. It couldn't hurt to have a competent command class reploid like her in his back pocket if the need arose, and from the look on her face, that seemed to be a very real possibility

"Erebus. If you do not have a feed to CNN currently active, open one right this moment."

"What's going on?"

"Please just do what I've asked." She almost shouted at him.

"It's not an order, is it?" He joked as he closed his connections to the protected nets and opened up the CNN livestream.

"Please." She whispered now.

_Have to ask her about that,_ he thought, as the data stream kicked in and he joined viewers from around the world at what appeared to be the aftermath of a very dramatic announcement out of China from the Russian Embassy. The camera flashes were so frequent that the stern looking man at the podium was nearly constantly illuminated, the steady clicks of shutters filling the air.

"Ambassador Kirov, will negotiations be reopened with the Chinese in the near future?" a reporter shouted in english. The older man waited for the translator in his ear to finish with the question before answering.

"I am unable to foresee such events in the near future."

"Is the footage being shown on Chinese state television faked in any way whatsoever?"

"The evidence recovered by Chinese authorities at their facility indicates that Russian mecha were in fact involved with the attack. However, the Russian Federation government stance is that we have no reason to have ordered a clear act of war. Despite recent setbacks, if we as a nation did intend to commit to a war with our neighbors, why would it be piecemeal? Why only one facility?" He looked weary, as though he'd given this answer before now dozens of times. Kirov pointed at a Chinese reporter with her hand raised.

"You do not deny the existence of Nevsky Ride Armor in Chinese territory?"

"It is impossible to deny it. I can only repeat the condolences of my government to your own and your people: We did not, and would not order an attack on a civilian facility of a sovereign nation."

_Good God, _Erebus thought. The woman continued to press the ambassador.

"If the Russian Federation indeed has nothing to hide, why flee our nation?"

"Understand that we have responsibilities to our own citizens as well as yours. With the sheer number of threats received over the past six hours, our mission here is impossible to accomplish at this time. Until the Chinese government returns to negotiations and we-"

There was a red puff of mist that exploded from Ambassador Kirov's left shoulder as he went down wordlessly. Chinese and Russian personnel who were standing guard around the podium readied their own rifles. The screaming began as the distant crack of the sniper shot finally could be heard by all attendees. Panic swiftly overtook the scene as civilians, human and reploid, ran towards the cameraman, around him. Further shots could be heard, these from Russian soldiers who were shouting and pointing to some place far behind the camera.

_And now the Chinese citizenry, angered by the loss of their fellows, strike at the representative of the supposed murderers. Nationalism builds to feverish heights. Now they know hate, who to hate, and hate is more than enough fuel to fight a war with. The Russian people are no different, following the same script laid out for them. _Erebus scanned the image. It wasn't live, this had happened twenty minutes prior. A CNN reporter replaced the video a moment later.

"This was the scene at the Russian Embassy in Beijing less than half an hour ago, yet another in a string of events that threaten to completely destabilize relations between the two superpowers. Ambassador Kirov is expected to live, and has been quoted to have called for 'calm minds back home'. This has done little to quell the protests breaking out throughout Moscow as furious Russian citizens, braving near blizzard conditions by the thousands, are screaming for justice over the loss of their own Energen plant just eight days ago. President Souther is expected to make a statement of the recent violence at the Beijing Embassy in ten minutes-"

Erebus shut off the stream, feeling his jaw clenching tightly. He stood abruptly from his seat, pacing around the room once before cursing loudly, a bit of his younger days creeping back into to the present as he entertained the thought of just how much force would be necessary to put his fist through a wall.

"Are you still watching?" Lenneth asked.

"Don't need to keep watching to know I've lost round one."

"Still nothing on Nike?"

"Nothing. She's a ghost. Built to do it, one of the best in the world at it." Erebus sighed. "How about you? Depending how this plays out, you-"

"I no longer have a command. Word just passed down officially. I'm to report to the Pentagon tomorrow morning to meet with SECDEF Bachmann and General Culverson and begin the process of reintegrating my former unit within the 3rd Armored Division." The General sounded crushed just to say those words, and Erebus imagined that she'd spent a lot of time in private in a much less controlled state after receiving the news.

"I'm sorry to hear that." It was the understatement of the year. _I knew it was going to happen, just not this soon. Somebody lit a fire under someone else' ass to get this done now. Maybe it was the exercise. Who knows. And here I am, playing the innocent. I should have warned her._

"I suppose it was inevitable. With my counterpart having commited the acts she has, my own record, my commitment to this country...it all means nothing in the end, doesn't it?" The total defeat in her voice actually frightened Erebus. His mind raced for a few moments before he came to a decision.

"Tomorrow at what time?" Erebus snapped. "Exactly when are you expected to report?"

"Nine AM, why-"

"Tomorrow then. Do me a favor General-"

"Erebus, please-"

"General, I need a list of fifty of the absolute best people you have at your disposal. I expect your name on that list."

"Why?"

"It should be obvious." He broke the connection before she could respond, her eyes widening in shock. Running a quick mental checklist, he played several test scenarios out through his head, grunted with some satisfaction. It would have to do.

_With this, it can solve the other major problem with Vanguard: Ability. Against common Mavericks and terrorists, no worries, but without support from reploids like those of the 1st RSF I only have so many aces to stack my deck with, much as I'd hate to admit. The exercise only went well due to the presence of real military ground-pounders and the gear they brought to our side. We need those capabilities, and this is the fastest way to get them. A mixed blessing at the right time is better than nothing._

Reopening all of his intel contacts, the commander of Vanguard sat heavily on his seat, brooding yet feeling somewhat frantic. Someone somewhere had to have picked up something for him to work off of, and he needed it and a decent presentation prepared before he arrived at the meeting tomorrow morning. Not easy, but doable.

_Lets take this from the top. Nike was one of the best e-warfare specialists the US built for the RSF program. All the combat mods she could ever apply to her body are secondary to that. There are things she simply can't hide. If she's coordinating attacks though the net, there'd be databursts I can track, large volumes of data at odd times from odd locations. Even assuming she can get into proxy server logs to alter their records, she can't circumvent every single tracking system used by the connected world._

In his mind, the electronic globe that represented the Network appeared before him, slowly rotating on its virtual axis.

_The Mavericks hit the Hunters, two key locations, in and out. No survivors from New York. Planned perhaps? Not likely. She wouldn't throw away what little she could actually count on without a plan. They could have warped, but didn't. The transfer could have been tracked somehow. They probably made the conscious decision to stand their ground to the last man, keep the hounds away from the nest for that much longer. But the ones in Japan did withdraw. How do we explain that?_

_Current theory is that Nike's people are responsible for the selected attacks on Chinese and Russian energen, taking advantage of existing tensions. Base of operations is likely within or very near the region. Would explain timing of the attacks to some extent. Need something more comprehensive to continue analysis, draft up a plan of attack. MHHQ likely compromised to some extent with regards to surveillance records, eyewitness accounts from local personnel still a viable option. _

Roughly five minutes into his draft of an e-mail meant to be sent off to Commander Signas, Erebus was interrupted by an ambiguous, one line message from the man himself:

**Requesting mutually beneficial exchange of information. Recommend no Network data transfers.**

"How 'bout that," the Captain grunted.


	8. Phase 6: Nothing to Fear

**Phase 6: Nothing To Fear, Nothing To Doubt**

**December 10th, 2133**

**Provisional MH Regional Command Center **

**New York City**

**7:22 AM**

From his new office, X could see the construction cranes surrounding what had been the tower that housed the former command center of the New York MHHQ building far below just three city blocks away, the blasted remains of the old being removed, the materials for the new being put into place. Mechaniloids and reploids did the bulk of the heavy lifting, but the few human Hunters threw themselves into the thick of things as much as possible. It was inspirational, in a way, but X was already missing the view of New Tokyo from his old room, and wondered if things would change back home while he was away.

His sending off had been a low key affair, though X had made it a personal point to apologize to the other commanders back home for his attitude during Signas's debriefing. Nobody claimed to hold a grudge over it, and that had relieved him. One less thing to worry about with thousands more lining up at the gates. Before leaving, he privately confided in Signas that he simply did not feel confident in his ability to accomplish this new mission.

_It is a new start, Commander X,_ Signas had said. _You are more than capable, you simply need to believe it. There is nothing in your record that places my faith in your abilities in question._

X had never felt like much of a leader. His friends would probably give him hell for thinking that, but from his perspective, he felt he simply could not match up to other commanders, felt he made too many mistakes. X had witnessed his 17th Unit have its heart ripped out of it in a single moment during 'Sigma's Sixth' in 2131. It had badly shaken him. Others told him there was nothing he could have done. X did not see it that way, he never would.

Even now, years later, whenever the 17th was called up for a full deployment in response to a Maverick, he would get the shakes something fierce. He wondered if they would ever stop, wondered if Gavin or Zero felt the same as he did.

Gavin didn't speak much about what had happened only days before. He'd been the one to find Nana, and he'd been there as she faded away. To X, it seemed Gavin hadn't let it all affect his ability to perform his duties, and it made him somewhat envious of the younger reploid.

When X and the other Hunters arrived in New York, they'd been greeted by what was left of the defeated Hunters with equal measures of respect and perhaps a little bit of fear. Fear of what he was, fear of his deceptive B rank, fear of any changes he would institute in the name of restoring things back to full operational status. He suddenly understood that he was their Signas. The fly in the ointment that had mostly done well up to this point. His early morning arrival had likely only made things more tense. It would be X's first priority to deal with that.

There were barely twenty fully operational Hunters in New York before the arrival of the 17th and 21st, a rag tag collection of survivors from the units that had once watched over the majority of the North Eastern District of the Unites States. The lead survivor was feraloid who went by the name Bolt, and a quick check of his file confirmed that he was the highest ranking survivor of the attack. It made X realize how lucky they'd really been back in New Tokyo. The survivors were probably still shell shocked over what had happened, and it'd help if X reestablished old routines and protocols and got them reorganized into a new unit with each other. A commander like Bolt would go a long way towards that short term goal. Inwardly, X somewhat dreaded working with the feraloid if only for the memory he dredged up of the fallen Repliforce Maverick, Slash Beast. Bolt was more or less a twin who'd chosen to wear urban camoflage as opposed to the distinctive colors the Maverick had fought in.

There was an essentially completely new command staff that would be arriving soon, most of which would have been pulled from other regional command posts throughout North America. With the organization stretched as thin as it was across the continent, they didn't have the same luxury of sparing entire units to New York, unlike Japan, who quartered no less than thirty full Maverick Hunter units across all of its islands, acting as a central response hub for most of Asia and Oceania. The US was lucky enough to put up state based local Hunter Units with four or five dedicated Hunters in a given area. For quite some time, the US response to large scale Maverick incidents came from both Los Angeles and from New York, and if the situation required it, the Reploid Special Forces could be deployed.

It was X's responsibility to restore a proper localized presence in New York, whatever 'proper' meant at this point. He was fairly terrified at the prospect of such responsibility and what failure meant, but he knew he wasn't alone. Gavin's presence brought another mind X could trust into the mix, and it never hurt to have the extra input on how to proceed moving forward.

The US government had been generous enough to allow the Hunters access to Arcology One North East, the largest standing structure in the megacity. A1NE was a man made Cheyenne Mountain, at the center of arguably most important city after Washington DC for the US, responsible for a significant portion of the advanced early warning system that kept a watchful eye over the entire nation. A temporary arrangement, one that placed in jeopardy the neutral nature of X's mission. Signas had accepted the offer though, and that meant X had accepted the offer regardless of how he felt about it.

"We should get to the landing pad, X. New people arriving."

Gavin's voice startled X. He hadn't even heard him enter the office. How long had he sat there, watching the Azure Hunter stare at the early morning skyline?

"Well, it starts." X sighed, checking the time on a wall mounted clock. _Certainly aren't wasting any time. Haven't even had an hour to settle in ourselves._ "D'ya have their files? I've received nothing about them just yet." X slipped into the false calm he thought he'd long perfected, walking briskly towards the door, pausing briefly to finish off a coffee before tossing the cup into a wastebasket. He scowled with disgust. "Cold."

"Sure do, Commander." Gavin paused, staring at X for a moment. "Worried, huh?"

"Of course. Someone once told me it's one of those things that makes me special. Special how? I'm not quite sure anymore."

* * *

The helipad at this height was colder than X had expected. There were arcologies in Japan, but none quite this tall, nor located in the middle of a major city. Bolt had joined him and Gavin just as the transport made it's final approach. It was a modified AH-108 Tarantula, and despite being larger than the B models he'd seen in Los Angeles, the familiar lines brought back the sound and fury of that particular day.

"You think they'd be retiring those after Apollo's Rebellion." X said under his breath.

"If it still does its job, no reason to scrap a perfectly good tool just because it got misused." Bolt answered. "Not like the Japanese and the Mitsubachi."

_Hard to argue against that._

The engines spun down as soon as the landing skids contacted the deck, and the heavy craft settled on its own weight. Metal met metal as the side doors swung open and loading ramps slammed onto the flight deck. Two soldiers, human, flanked the ramp, weapons held with barrels pointed to the ground, ready for intervention if necessary.

From within the polycraft came the group of passengers. Among them, X noted that several wore white coats. Not one looked like they were at the temporary HQ to be field Hunters. X chastised himself for thinking the US would be quick to send full on military reploids to assist with bringing aboard some fighting strength to the mauled command he'd inherited. They needed the support staff, so there was no use in complaining. X couldn't run a fully equipped command center by himself even if he tried.

"No humans," Gavin remarked. "I don't think those two soldiers are here to stay."

"It's a bit different out here in the States," Bolt said. "Maverick Hunter human-reploid integration levels aren't approaching Japan's just yet. MSWAT's a little different, 'specially out west, but they're in worse shape in terms of funding and equipment in general." The feraloid seemed to purr for a moment. "At least they had the decency to send us some scenery. Shame you don't see the real pretty fem-types taking to the field too often, but I'll take what I can get." His locked onto one of the 'fem-types', taller than the others. She had striking purple hair that went all the way down to the back of her waist, her eyes hidden by her bangs. "Let it not be said that humans can't make 'em pretty when they want to."

One of the reploids at the front of the group had looked around the landing pad for any sign of greeting, and met eyes with the Blue Bomber, and came to a halt. Within seconds, twenty new arrivals were focused on the progenitor of their kind. Nobody spoke for a moment.

"Good morning. As you're likely aware, my name is X, Commander of the 17th Unit, and Interim Commander of Maverick Hunters North East US." X took the initiative and moved to stand before the new arrivals. "You have my gratitude for coming here from your respective posts, I can assure you the manpower is needed. We have a lot to do before we can make things right around here. You should have access to the local net to download a map of our part of the arcology. We'll be holding an introductory briefing at the command center in one hour, so take that time to acclimate yourselves to the place. Welcome aboard."

* * *

"Could be worse." Gavin remarked as he followed X and Bolt back to his office. "Support, every last one. Specially selected though, lots of experience across varied backgrounds." He tapped at his data pad, bringing up a file he was particularly impressed with. "Layer, female humanoid type, incept date classified, former NASA Mission Control specialist 2129-2131. Joined Maverick Hunters in 2132, selected by GDC for the Information and Battlefield Data Assistance Program Trials this year. We didn't get anyone like this back in New Tokyo. One confirmed Maverick kill." Gavin paused, then took a closer look at the dossier. "Plasma Saber qualification? Really?"

"So she's got some bite to go with those looks. Okay." Bolt grinned. "Be nice to have a Navi with some combat experience, bet her confirmed Maverick was a rogue Metool or somethin'..."

Gavin and Bolt continued their 'dissection' of personnel dossiers behind X. He remained silent, going over a mental checklist of the things he wanted to discuss with the new arrivals. Once things at the control room were up and running in the next couple hours, he wanted to begin deploying Hunters on patrols, and work out kinks in the in the command net as quickly as possible. With luck, the newly furbished command room would be fully operational within the day. He could take a harder look at the sort of Hunters he'd inherited leadership over once that was done, and begin the search for quality people to address the deficiencies.

He didn't notice the woman in front of him until he nearly walked right into her. X did not typically have all of the functions of his HUD enabled, preferring to see the world around him naturally. He still reacted quickly, shifting his weight back to avoid her. She likewise did the same. Behind X, Gavin and Bolt came a halt. The female reploid looked very much a deer in the headlights, taking several steps back, running a hand through her short blonde hair nervously. The identification tag hanging from her neck called her Alia, apparently another Navigator.

"I'm sorry, Commanders. I was distracted."

"I think we all were, miss. It's no trouble, carry on." X's own eyes met her blue ones. They were alight, text scrolling across them rapidly, rapidly moving up and down as though inspecting X.

After another moment she looked away, quickly excusing herself from their presence without another word.

"Mousey lil' thing." Bolt said, after he was certain she was out of earshot.

_What was that all about?_ X was uncertain, but for a moment...he swore she'd been upset with him. It'd been subtle. Something about her body language. The way her eyes had tracked directly towards his hands, where his busters lay currently dormant. She'd sized him up as a threat, at least it felt that way.

He shrugged it off. New Tokyo's thirteen hour difference with New York was already playing hell with him. Maybe.

**The Pentagon**

**8:30 AM**

Erebus arrived thirty minutes earlier than he needed to, a necessary precaution. Despite having the security clearance to enter the Pentagon without an appointment, he was a reploid, and subject to a thorough security scan by no less than six heavily armed human personnel, with security mechaniloid assistance. He was not allowed to have anything on his person that could be classified as an 'externally mounted or stored weapon system'. He was not allowed to be wearing combat armor of any sort, essentially forced to strip down to the very basics of his human shaped shell and wear normal every day clothes. If dash systems were a natural part of a reploid's legs, they were considered lethal weapons, their use strictly prohibited.

Mavericks had yet to be successful in penetrating the extensive defensive cordon that surrounded the Pentagon, and if the security detail had their way, they never would. Despite the fairly impersonal and rough treatment he'd received, Erebus was not angry at the men doing their job. They had every right to be cautious around him, and they were responsible for the safety of thousands of civilian and military workers in the building.

Out of his typical armor, he stood at seven feet tall, an atlas perfect physique. He chose to wear his old Army Service Uniform, mostly to make a statement of who he'd been in the past, who he was now, and as a challenge to the people he'd be dealing with shortly. The various ribbons he'd earned in Africa and South America, medals awarded to the entire 2nd RSF for its duties, they were all polished to a mirror sheen.

Four armed escorts flanked him as they lead him to a secured waiting area in silence. There were noticeable stares from civilian and military people alike. The uniform he wore had been unique to the 2nd RSF. Unique to Mavericks, now.

"Boogeyman, boogeyman, walkin' through your halls. Grim Reaper, Grim Reaper, scythe in hand..."

The guards all suddenly looked more than a little perturbed at Erebus. He knew he wasn't supposed to, but he missed the marching cadence from his his old unit. It felt appropriate.

* * *

If Lenneth was happy to see Erebus walk into the conference room where the meeting was to take place, she did not show it. In uniform herself, she looked much less imposing than she did in armor, small compared to him. Her fingers idly tugged at her service cover as she stared at it listlessly.

"You actually came."

"You should have some faith left in others." He sat down at a seat next to hers. She continued to stare at her cover. "You do up that list like I asked?"

"I did." Her voice trembled slightly. "I went through over a thousand maintenance files of everyone within the 1st RSF, my people, and I picked fifty." She finally turned to face him, and there was real hurt in her eyes. "It's over and done. But you knew, didn't you? You knew this would happen."

Erebus nodded without hesitation. No sense in lying to her now. "They told me they were considering it. They even implied it was going to go before Congress. It obviously didn't."

"Were you going to tell me?"

"No. We're all obligated to follow orders," he said. "I admit, I'm treating this as a blessing of sorts. Vanguard needs the expertise you and yours can provide."

"You're a vulture, a goddamned scavenger." She snapped, looking away, sinking further in her seat. "I respected you. _I trusted you._"

"What can I say?" His smile was that of a predator. "I see something lying on the ground, I take it. We were both taught to not waste a good opportunity. We were taught not to leave behind equipment the enemy could use against us. I still remember those training simulations in the 'tube."

"As do I." She sat back up straight, glaring at him.

"So what if you lost your fight. So what if reploids are no longer going to function as an autonomous unit within the US Army. You can complete Vanguard. You can be the final piece, the whetstone that hones the blade to perfection." His voice was urgent now, almost a plea, but not quite. Somehow, Lenneth knew that mountains would have to move first before he begged for assistance from anyone. "Vanguard has a slim chance to stop this before it starts. Failing that, a chance to bring down the Maverick I believe is responsible for everything, a Maverick leading those who brought discredit and dishonor to the Reploid Special Forces. The odds improve if you accept my offer."

"You really think your little proposal is going to fly past the Army Chief of Staff and the Secretary of Defense?" Lenneth's anger had melted away. She sounded almost hopeful. "Colorful language and the insistence on chasing down a Maverick nobody has been able to pin down isn't going to sound very appealing to them."

"They don't have to like it. It just has to meet specific requirements. Trust me on this, Lenneth." Erebus offered a hand to the General expectantly.

"My orders state they'll assign my people to the 3rd Armored Division to enhance their capabilities. They very well may be on the ground in Russia within the month as part of an expeditionary force-"

"That's one possibility." Erebus nodded. "They could just scrap you all outright. They'd be within their rights to do so. Either way, it's a waste of talent." Exasperation bled into his voice now. "You really think the United States is going to openly deploy men and material to aid Russia through all of this? It's the last thing they want to do. Our common ground is our distrust of the GDC, and they, to their credit, are trying to find a way to simmer things down before they get worse. If anything, sending over our troops would only force China and the GDC to act."

"There are many scenarios that could play out."

"All of them only possible because of the surviving Mavericks of the 2nd RSF. At last count, they have possibly a hundred fully capable military class reploids still active in the world. Vanguard, as it stands now, is not enough to confront this."

"And I suppose turning to the Maverick Hunters to fill in those gaps isn't an option you are willing to consider." Lenneth rubbed her forehead in thought, a very human gesture. "Please understand, I need more time to...consider the offer. An offer based entirely on speculation and guesswork that conveniently fits in all the right places, mind you."

"You don't have much of it." Disappointed in what he was hearing, Erebus lowered his hand. "For what little it's worth, I'm sorry I withheld this from you, I truly am. The 1st RSF deserved better."

"I know," General-for-perhaps-another-hour Lenneth said sadly. "I know."

**Los Angeles, California**

**5:45 AM**

Ricardo awakened to find that Hilde was not laying next to him. The distinct aroma of black coffee inspired him to sit up and find his footing on the carpet, dragging himself towards the kitchen of his little apartment, passing Hilde on his way to the caffeine. She sat on his couch curled up in a ball, her arms wrapped around her legs, eyes fixated on the television, the volume down so as to not awaken him. Mission failed, but not because of that.

She could get the internet via wireless. She could get information far faster than he ever could. The TV, as far as she were normally concerned, was to play videogames with Ricardo on. Something was bothering her, had been bothering her since the excursion in the Urals. Out of respect, he'd chosen to not press her about it. Seeing her listlessly going through the motions of daily life concerned him, but he figured that whatever was the cause for it would eventually be made known to him sooner or later.

"Sorry," she said, quickly uncurling and standing up, reaching for the remote to the screen. "I'll shut it-"

"Nah, turn it up." He yawned and waved her to sit back down as he poured himself some sludge out of the coffee machine.

"...Okay."

He made his way over towards her, gaining strength with every second he was awake. The moment he sat next to her she leaned against him, eyes still locked onto the screen. Her familiar weight pressed him deeper into the cushions.

"The world sucks." She whispered.

"You've been like this since we got back."

"Had my eyes opened, is all."

Shrugging, Ricardo gently stroked her hair. "Can't be all that bad. I'm here."

"Gawd that was cheesy." She was trying to fight her grin, and failing.

"Cheddar? Mozzarella? Gouda?"

She shoved his head against the backrest, her laughter not quite reaching her face. "Okay okay, I feel a little better now."

"Good." He managed to keep the coffee in the cup as he slipped away from her hands to sit back up. "So, what got you up early?"

"Just thinkin'." She lay against his lap, looking up at him.

"Since Russia." Ricardo rolled his eyes. "We both know you don't do that much thinkin'."

"Screw you. I don't like where all of this is going."

"Vanguard or me?"

"Vanguard, ass."

They stayed silent for a moment. The news anchor on the television was reiterating the magnitude of the build up at the Chinese-Russian border. Since the advent of twenty four hour news networks, nobody had successfully come up with a way to make more international news happen more often so that they didn't repeat themselves hundreds of times in a single day.

The news was bad, and no amount of repetition was changing that. Mongolia had just announced to agreeing to the opening of a People's Liberation Army installation inside its borders. The Chinese Premier was wrapping up a fairly low key speech, thanking Mongolia for allowing China to protect its interests within the bordering nation. Just like that, the Mongolian government had drawn its own line in the sand. It felt more threatened by its neighbor to the north, enough it was inviting a permanent armed foreign presence onto its land.

Covered with steppes and little arable land, Mongolia had turned into a regional economic power with the discovery of energen reserves within its borders, servicing both of its larger neighbors as best as possible. To survive economically and politically in the post 2090's world, it was necessary to cooperate, to wheel and deal. Still, the populace of Mongolia did not always agree with the decisions of the government, decrying their leaders, accusing them of prostituting their homeland to the highest bidder. These claims were unfair in many ways, but it was hard to ignore the foreign influence within the government. There would be protests in Ulaanbaatar tonight...

"I know the Captain trains us hard...but the Spetznaz? Really?" Hilde poked at one of Ricardo's biceps. "I was cold. I can't fathom how you felt out there."

"I like California. It's not Russia."

"Yeah..." Lifting herself out of the couch and away from Ricardo, Hilde walked over to the kitchen to put together some real breakfast. "Ricky? You...don't seem worried that there's going to be a war."

"I grew up hearing stories about the 2090's from my dad and my granddad. Read all about it in school. If it does go down, it's not like there weren't warning signs to begin with." He took a sip of the coffee, then nearly gagged. "Oh God, I forgot you brewed this for yourself."

"Sorry."

"Look Hilde, it's not set in stone, future's not written in the books just yet. I'd start worrying when it actually happens. We're not paid to watch over whole governments or their armed forces. We deal in Mavericks, and those that support them."

She whirled around to face him, shouting now. "But we just trained on how to kill human special forces! I've never considered that to be a necessary skill set for taking down Mavericks!" She was waving a dish at Ricardo emphatically.

"Mavericks aren't the only bad guys in the world. What are you so upset about?"

"I was _enjoying_ it!"

"Hell I'd be having a blast if I could leap a hundred feet without trying too hard while in full combat gear, and turn invisible to boot. They let you keep that last bit, by the way?"

She stared incredulously at Ricardo. "Would you have enjoyed it if you were 'killing' me?"

"You didn't seem to mind it much at the time when you 'killed' _me_."He was smirking now.

"Well, I do now! I-" The plate in her hand practically exploded as her grip tightened well beyond its ability to withstand.

The only sound in the apartment for a long, awkward moment in time, was that of the TV.

"You okay?" Ricardo asked.

Embarrassed, she tore her gaze away from him, trying to pick up the pieces of the plate, only to keep dropping them from the counter to the floor, the largest piece shattering as it fell to the tile floor. Some of the plate had stuck through the synthskin on the hand she'd been holding it with, purple artificial blood dripping on the counter, smearing as she tried to pick up the larger pieces. "Goddamnit, I'm sorry, I'll- Lemme get-"

"To answer the question, I wouldn't have." Ricardo was at her side, brushing pieces of plate off the counter with a towel into a wastebasket. His voice hadn't raised one bit, calm and reassuring. "It's training, we gotta have good guys and bad guys for training. It's how it's always been. Get your hands in the sink, you're bleeding. Sealants all good? Everything okay?"

"Listen to me- It felt wrong. The more I thought about what I was capable of doing to human beings, to you, I just- I don't want to end up being like those other reploids we met. I'm not a war machine, I don't want to be ready to kill humans. It's a slippery slope-"

"Too late, you're in Vanguard now, and you're the best pointwoman I know of. Those military types were singin' your praises on the way back."

"Jesus Ricky, I'm serious here!"

"I am too, just relax for a moment and lemme pick this stuff up so we don't step on it. I'll help you with your hand in a moment."

"I- I don't need you to help with this...I can pull out the shards myself, nanos'll seal my skin and the blood flow-"

The last of the plate picked from the floor and in the basket, Ricardo jogged off, feet thumping against the carpet. "I'll get some clean wipes."

Hilde watched him as he entered the bathroom before looking away, blinking rapidly. "Damnit..." She sniffled once. "Goddamnit..."

He came back with a small wash bin to capture any spilled blood, pulling her by the wrist to their small dinner table. They stayed quiet as he inspected her hands, taking note of shards of the plate sticking out of them, not particularly deep. He reached at one carefully.

"This isn't going to hurt you is it?"

"No, I'm a reploid you dumbass, I can shut off those receptors." She blinked several more times. "I can handle this, Rick, seriously. I broke it, I earned-"

"I'm just askin'. I'm just bein' nice. Can't I be nice?"

"I expect you to be more than nice." She sniffled again, trying and failing to laugh at her own joke.

"So is this an act or are you-"

"Just pull out the frigging stuff already."

He smiled. "Mmmkay."

The first shard, the largest, came out easily, revealing angry purple liquid inside the wound that protected and helped power the high tech endoskeleton that made her hands so very lifelike. As she had said, the damaged synthskin quickly sealed itself, the place of the wound glowing briefly as the nanos secured the new patch of skin. The shard dropped into the basin with a dull clink.

"Ouch." Hilde hissed.

"I thought you said this wasn't going to hurt!" Ricardo pulled his hands away from her wounded one as though he'd touched a heated stove.

"Got ya."

"Funny." He shook his head, carefully grabbing her hand once more.

"Gawd, take your time why don'tcha..." She sighed shakily, looking at the wall clock. "I'm glad we're not going to be late because of me."

"Priorities, girl." He pulled out another shard slowly, watching her face for a reaction. She looked as though she were about to cry, but not from physical discomfort. "I, uh, can't break stuff as easily as you when I'm worried. Speaking of which, if this has been eating at you this much, why haven't you talked to the Captain?"

"He's looked so busy since we got back." She tried to shake off her moment of weakness as best she could.

"I was right, you really don't do much thinking when it counts." A third shard fell into the pan. Gently, Ricardo ran a wet cloth along her hands to wipe away any blood had stained them. Her nanos quickly sealed the gashes, and that was that. "There we go, done."

Hilde sniffled again. "You...really didn't have to do this...you know that, right? I'm-" She squeezed her eyes shut. "Goddamnit."

"I'm sure you'd do the same for me." His fingers ran along the synthskin that had just healed over the injury. "You know, the next time I crush a porcelain mug in my bare hands because I'm worried about you. Hey, c'mon, look at me. It's alright."

She pulled him into a tight hug. "I just don't know what Vanguard really is ultimately, a PMC? Mercenaries with government backing? I've been afraid to approach the Captain about this. What are we really? What are we gearing up for?"

His arms wrapped around her in return, patting her back. "You're practically his second in command, all things considered. You should act it. Ask him what's up. What's he gonna do, fire you?"

"I know, right?" She had to admit that Ricardo could always put her at ease, in his own way.

"I'm your rear guard, remember? Your sharpshooter. I shoot what you can't. It'll never be a problem for you to worry so much about as long as I'm around. Understand?"

She squeezed him a bit harder. "Thank you, doctor. Am I good to go?"

"Clean bill of health, just a case of the emotions running a little wild, symptoms include breaking our dinner plates." He checked the clock again. "Let mosey. We can grab breakfast on the way."

**The Pentagon**

Culverson and Bachmann arrived with one another ten minutes later than the meeting was scheduled, a fact that chafed Erebus along with the fact that neither man seemed particularly bothered by his presence.

"Well, the RSF's were nothing if not loyal to eachother. Good morning, Captain Erebus." Culverson had grunted. "We did warn you this was going to happen. Are you here in protest, or here to discuss related matters?"

Erebus glanced at Lenneth for a moment before rising from his seat, moving towards a wall display. "You could say it's related."

SECDEF Bachmann appeared to be more understanding towards Lenneth. "It has to be like this, General."

"My orders?" Her voice was monotone.

"As stated officially, you're to reinforce the 3rd Armored." Culverson said. "The truth is we simply want the RSF program dead and gone. The sooner the better, politically and domestically it's a damned nightmare. However, we want to retain the unique talents we've built you with."

"That's why I'm here, General Culverson." Erebus interjected. "I'd like to take some deadweight off your hands for Vanguard."

Lenneth shot him the meanest look he'd ever recieved from a woman, reploid or human. That didn't surprise him. He'd apologize for that later, and brace himself for a potential blunt force impact to the cranium.

Culverson looked genuinely interested. That threw him off.

_What am I walking into here?_

"Why?" The Army General rested his chin against his hands. Next to him, Bachmann too had his attention focused on the reploid.

"Without the RSF program active, you can either leave the retirement of the Maverick Nike to the Hunters, a GDC organization, or Vanguard, which as far as we are both aware, remains under the radar. In order to ensure success, Vanguard could make use of former RSF units."

"How many would you need?" Bachmann asked.

"Fifty, plus General Lenneth to act as another command element. Additional technical support would also be nice, but my current support staff is more than capable of handling additional maintenance duties." With that, he went into his operational concept.

Vanguard had good shooters and good techs, humans and reploids. But ultimately, these were mostly civilians doing a job that when the going got rough, you escalated to Maverick Hunters, who were more or less considered to be full on military units. While skilled, especially so for former MSWAT, in a fight against Mavericks the likes of Nike, it wasn't nearly enough. To put it lightly, he'd be sending well armed, well trained lambs to the slaughter.

With the addition of these former 1st RSF reploids, Vanguard would have the combat power to hunt down Mavericks and their supporters who could even give Maverick Hunters something to worry about, and over the course of training, the overall capability of all Vanguard members would benefit. It would grant him flexibility of deploying what he needed, as opposed to trying to make do without, increasing the chances of successful operations. More importantly, it would give Vanguard a fighting chance against Nike.

"How long have you been planning for this?" SECDEF seemed rather impressed.

"When I was informed the 1st RSF was going to be disbanded, I was intending to request reassignment of skilled personnel to Vanguard as soon as it was made official."

"I see." General Culverson was shorter than Erebus by two feet, and in his sixties, wasn't quite warrior he'd been forty years before. There was a coldness about him, combined with the scowl that never seemed to leave his crag-like face. It was enough to intimidate the two reploids. "You're rather fixated on that Maverick, Captain. Why?"

"You've read my reports and my analysis of the-"

"It's rather like the sort of vendetta I'd expect from a human being. Do you agree, Number Four?"

Gritting his teeth, Erebus only managed to nod in reply. Bachmann managed a polite cough, his eyes widening as he stared at the General who seemed to be deliberately picking a fight with a full combat machine.

Culverson leaned forward in his seat. "Erebus, in your own most recent report you state, and I quote, 'retiring Nike and her comrades, if she is responsible for sabotaging relations between China and Russia, would likely not restore a stable political relationship between the two belligerent nations.' I agree with that statement. Why dedicate resources to a problem that is overshadowed by something much worse?"

"I deal in Mavericks, not foreign policy." Erebus said tightly. "You tell me."

"You're aware of my stances on reploids in my military." Culverson seemed to abruptly drop the acid tone in his voice. "I have history on my side. Your kind is dangerous enough with construction implements, let alone any real firepower. The wars of 2040, made bloodier by emotionless killing automatons. The 2090's, the introduction of fully militarized mechaniloids deploying nuclear, biological, chemical weapons onto civilian populations. And now...the Mavericks themselves. Machines that claim to 'feel', yet feel nothing at the loss of life they cause. They justify it. They cry revolution, vengeance against those that have oppressed them. They even have leaders, who liken themselves to real revolutionaries."

"Noted."

"You know that China currently has the largest contingent of military reploids in the world, and there is real possibility that Russians will be facing down those threats very soon. Think of the carnage, Number Four. We built you for the same purpose. If the RSFs were so lethal using restricted levels of force against untrained militia, imagine a hundred thousand reploids, waging all out war they were specifically designed for." Culverson paused for a moment, looking almost thoughtful. "I didn't trust the RSFs, because I recognized their potential. That does not mean they cannot be useful. That does not mean the United States military does not need them in a more official capacity. It does not mean they cannot protect the lives of their human counterparts. For all of my mistrust, for all of my bias, I cannot see good reason to simply discard valuable assets. My responsibility as Chief of Staff, United States Army, compels me to look past all that."

"You're not discarding assents by giving them to Vanguard." Erebus fought to keep the frustration out of his voice. "Consigning them to the role of force multipliers within traditional front line units-"

"Will enhance unit combat effectiveness all the way down to the fire team level, improve survivability in various combat environments. Number Four, you are not making a very convincing argument."

"If our government is seriously considering siding with Russia and going to war with the Chinese, then we all fucking lose!" Erebus shouted.

"Preparing for war is what an army does in peacetime, Captain." Culverson sounded almost sympathetic now. "The Chinese are now the largest military contributors to the GDC, whom we are at odds with. Our relationship with Russia is far more stable. We always prepare for the worst, and pray for the best." For the first time during the meeting, the human general met eyes with the fuming reploid. "Captain Erebus, I understand that as someone who served alongside of Nike in the 2nd RSF, you likely feel personally responsible for the retirement of her and her allies. You in all probability are the one reploid best suited for the task. However, I don't intend to accommodate a personal vendetta, not now, not ever. Not with the lives of soldiers potentially at stake."

"It's not just about personal responsibility." The Captain was insistent now. "You're right that there is nothing concrete enough to pin the energen facility incidents on Mavericks, but the coincidences are there in the data, and it's still Vanguard's mission to deal with Mavericks first. I'm asking for you to take a leap of faith, General Culverson. I need Lenneth and her people, to guarantee we can put them down, and to keep this matter strictly within the jurisdiction of the US government. Would you rather the Maverick Hunters, a GDC organization, do the job for us instead?"

Bachmann seemed receptive to that. "The President has authorized Vanguard to exercise a great deal of authority on matters of Mavericks. General Culverson, I don't see any reason not to support this proposal."

"Even so, headhunting out of my Army for people is not something I welcome with open arms." Culverson seemed to relent. "You have one month, Captain Erebus. One month to give me results, and the odds are against you. If our intelligence agencies can't give you any information leading you to their location, I doubt it will be any easier via external means."

"I'm making some inroads with regard to alternative intelligence gathering, sir. I should have some results within a week." The Captain sat down next to Lenneth. If he was relieved or feeling triumphant, he didn't show it, his expression returning to it's neutral, unreadable state. Briefly, he did notice Lenneth's sideways glance towards him. The barest hint of a smile.

"When do you need the people?" Bachmann asked.

"I'd like the reploids General Lenneth selected, and her, to report to Los Angeles by noon local. Today."

"Very well." The Army man looked hard at Lenneth, then back at Erebus. "Alright. You get your joyride. I can have the orders cut within the hour."

* * *

"That was far more tense than it should have been." Bachmann sighed, wiping sweat off of his brow with a small cloth. "You were right to predict he would show up to this meeting." The two reploids had left the human pair in the meeting room, seemingly eager to get the ball rolling as quickly as possible.

"Soldiers, particularly in the special forces, are loyal to each other. I understand that." Culverson was speaking from personal experience. "I would have actually been more surprised if he hadn't been here, more disappointed really."

"I think you overstepped your bounds just a bit back there."

"I earned my rank, and the respect that comes with it. I was a footslogger before his kind were coming off of assembly lines. I don't believe in coddling soldiers to get them to do their jobs, no successful military has." Culverson stood to leave the room. "Number Four has a good head on his shoulders, for a reploid. He's got a problem with the idea we could be siding with the Russians here any day now, hell, I'm not so enthusiastic about that myself. It's almost a shame, really. Even if he nails this bitch, nothing'll be the same as it was."

"It will certainly be interesting to see, that much is certain." Bachmann checked his watch. "Well, we're due back at the White House for that situation update. Where were you headed?"

"Some calls I need to make. I'll catch up."

"General, if we went public with what we have now, based on his data-"

"No one would believe us. Rob, you know that."

"It might delay the inevitable." Bachman said quietly. "Give us enough time to be prepared."

Riley Culverson shook his head adamantly. "The GDC stands to gain too much by showing the non-aligned nations of the world that they're perfectly happy to stand off to the side and watch member states prosecute wars over faulty intelligence. That's why I'm pulling for our Number Four, despite him being what he is. We made his kind to be miracle workers in the field. It's about time we got our money's worth. I believe he can be the one to do it."

* * *

Lenneth and Erebus walked side by side in silence. They seemed oblivious to the nervous glances some of the civilian workers, weaving past them with ease.

"Easier than I expected."

"So we're now 'deadweight', are we?" Lenneth asked.

"You know better than to believe I meant that."

"Is everything is an act with you, Captain?" She abruptly stopped walking. "You expect me to be thankful?"

"I'm just aiming for results." He turned to face her. "It isn't that I don't care how I achieve them, it's that I don't have the luxury of time to spend tip-toeing around the the egos of every person I deal with."

Her hand came up faster than he could even react to, stopping just short of his face.

"Thank you," she said. "For helping us. I don't believe others would have done the same." Coming from Lenneth, it didn't sound sincere, but he knew otherwise. A genuine smile spread across her face for the first time that morning. "We're to report to Los Angeles MSWAT HQ by noon, pacific standard time?"

His eyes were locked on firmly to her hand and just how close it had come to his face. He decided then and there he would stop trying to understand women. "Yeah."

"I'm to understand you'll not interfere with how I command my people?" She pulled her hand away, clearly having enjoyed his surprised expression.

"They're yours, not mine. Two 'divisions', as it were, of a single unit." He pointed a finger at Lenneth for emphasis. "You're not a subordinate, I want to make this absolutely clear. We plan together, and act together."

"Complete openness. You'll not be keeping any secrets from me from this point forward."

_Now there's a promise,_ Erebus thought, _that__ I shouldn't make._

Lenneth detected his hesitation. "Captain?"

"Of course, Lenneth. No secrets."

_**The Wrath of Olympus**_

Nike's presence around the ship as she made her rounds was something of a morale booster to The Few. With the recent losses they'd sustained, the mood on board the vessel had darkened considerably. These were men and women who had served together with for years, and every loss was utterly irreplaceable. It was hard to know that these comrades would never see everything come to fruition.

She had specific business with one of her people.

'Adam' was less enthused than the others to see her. He struck a very stoic figure alone in his quarters, performing maintenance on his weapons and equipment. A buster lay partially disassembled on a workbench, in his hands a magrifle with the forward assembly removed, scattered before him as he went over the weapon with cleaning gear. He no longer looked like the war machine Vile had modified him into, restored to the standardized form that most of The Few shared. The parts the Maverick had given Bernard and Adam had been checked thoroughly by techs for anything that could compromise the safety of the vessel before being melted down and ejected from the ship. The additional firepower the parts came with wasn't worth the stigma attached to them.

"Commander," he muttered in acknowledgment of her entrance, focused almost entirely on the rifle.

"I need you to return to Jeju-Do." She watched him closely, gauging him. "Loose end."

"Specifics?"

"Vile."

"Just tell me when." Setting down the rear half of the weapon, Adam went to work on the forward assembly pieces.

"Of course. I'll have more information in the next hour." She turned to leave. "I am sorry, about the others who went with you."

"Combat is combat. We all expected losses." He finally looked at Nike, his expression cold. "Did we achieve your strategic goals?"

"Without question."

"Was it worth it?"

"We would all like to believe that much, just before the end."

Nike exited quickly, the sound of the hatch sliding shut louder than her boots against the deck. Shrugging, Adam returned his attention to the magrifle.

* * *

Returning to the bridge, Nike removed the majority of her external armor plating, returning to the appearance of a perfectly proportioned human woman in a black bodysuit, the hardware connections built into the command chair interfacing on ports hidden all along the length of her body by sythnskin. Within minutes, the ship was her shell, and her mind had once again returned to the electronic world. Traveling through the lit pathways of the Network, she returned to a particular location that she hoped would never be a concern of hers again.

A maze spread itself out before her, and she ran along its paths, the various representations of security barriers failing to slow or stop her, melting away before her as various sub-routines of her program reconfigured the obstacles to allow her to slip by. The few that reacted to her presence shot out points of light towards a mass at the center of maze, only to have them intercepted by others that emanated from her body as she moved. Basic early warning measures, nothing very impressive on their own, by her standards. It was the things they could trigger that earned them the effort she put into silencing them.

After what seemed like hours, she found herself within the central closed network of the secret facility at Jeju-Do. Before her, surrounding the central light mass, lay a series a terminals that resembled the shelved of a printed text library.

Nike raised her slender arms, and from her fingertips extended thousands of light streaks, washing over the network representations of data servers, line by line. Within minutes, the process was complete, and she began to assimilate what she'd just acquired.

She could not feel sick to her stomach, she possessed no real physical sensation while diving the Network, but she could feel anger. Anger that she'd been reduced to having to work alongside a monster such as Vile, anger that he truly counted on The Few for something rather heinous planned for the next few days, something that would jeopardize the tenuous success they'd all managed up until now.

_At least it makes this next part much easier._

Leaning against one of the shelves, she sent a query to at the only other user connected to this network.

"Hello, princess." Appearing from a flat 'screen' that generated itself before her avatar, the Maverick's face remained hidden by his helmet, but she knew that he was grinning like a madman underneath it.

"Good morning, Vile. Proud of yourself? Certainly, it was earned. The Hunters were dealt a serious blow."

"I'm real glad you called." Vile spoke with an odd lilt. "I've got some plans, Nike. Big ones. Would you like to know more?"

"I know more than I care to about your particular agenda." There was a moment where she paused to consider how to phrase this next part. "I will not unleash the majority of my forces to handle such a request."

Vile recoiled back from the display. If he had been happy before, he wasn't now. "I don't believe I heard you right."

"As you are aware, our primary objective lays in geosynchronous Earth orbit, and is the size of a small city. I need all the manpower I can muster for it." She smiled.

"Sigma made it possible for you little snots to even have the capacity to pull this shit off. If not for him, I wouldn't be here, and if it weren't for me," his voice raised into a shout, "_you'd be molten scrap. You hear me?_"

"We have no vested interest in your cause, just as you have none in ours. This much was made clear." She sneered. "You really think I should feel obligated to help you in the slaughter you've planned?"

"I press one button, and everything about that ship gets sent out to every intelligence agency on the planet. You wouldn't last five hours." He pressed himself against the camera on his end. "I'll bury your perfectly shaped ass, bitch. Just try me."

"Survival is not our goal. You'd only be accelerating our timetable. I can accomplish more in those five hours than you and your Sigma have in fifteen years of fighting. We would die fighting, but we will have accomplished more." Nike spoke almost at a whisper now as she reached out, as though to caress his face."Does it bother you, Vile? That we are not afraid to cross even you?"

"You're already within the servers here." Vile breathed.

"Quicker than most. Indeed. It is a terrible plan. It leaves you vulnerable, and by extension, anyone I send to your aid. It serves no real purpose save to summon the wrath of two individuals you can barely stand against while using ride armors, and I see no reason to throw my men and women into that sacrificial pit." Holding up two fingers, her expression turned to ice. "I sent four to your side before, and only two returned. I will send only two for you this time. No more, no less. Remember this, Vile: their lives matter to me, yours does not."

"Funny that, you worrying about the lives of your people when they're all so quick to off themselves so your little mobile hidey hole doesn't get unveiled," Vile spat, pressing against the camera, as though he were trying to force himself into the electronic world from the physical one. Before Nike could end the communication herself, the last image she had of Vile was him rearing back, followed by his fist traveling at speed towards the monitor. Around her, the light representing the local network began to sputter and fade, replaced by blocks of static scattered around her.

_Shutting down his server hardware in hopes of 'killing' me. Electronics warfare is not his strongest suit._

The meeting concluded, Nike quickly withdrew from the Network, finding herself back in the command chair in short order. Hecatonchire was there to greet her as she awakened, and she smiled thinly at him.

"We'll begin the next phase within seventy two hours. Call Adam and Bernard to the bridge immediately." She relaxed against her seat once more, preparing to re-enter the Network.

"That seems...unlike you to have so rapidly adjusted our time table." Hecatonchire ventured.

"Vile was a liability to our cause from the beginning. We can't afford to waste resources or time on him. We'll need external assistance." Her body went slack once more as her consciousness left it behind, returning to the Net.

**New Tokyo, Japan**

Zero had decided to shift his typical nightly patrol route to take him through the parts of the city which had been hit the hardest, to see if there was any assistance he could lend to the clean up. It was a way to pass time, and it was nice to see people who were thankful he was out doing his job. Some folks gave him weird looks, but he couldn't hold that against them. When he was 'younger', perhaps he might have lashed out.

There hadn't been any emergency calls, and Signas, having divided the combat strength of New Tokyo's Hunters with a continent a whole ocean away, was making sure that if his people responded to anything, it would have to a priority call from somewhere on the Japanese islands. Ideally, the locals closest to the typical isolated Maverick could deal with it. Unless, of course, the Mavericks were similar to the ones from the 7th. The scary thing was, ultimately they were no worse than some of the real monsters Zero had fought in his time. They'd just been coordinated, and quick about their business. They didn't hesitate, they'd been thorough, and were the polar opposite of Vile. They'd come for a purpose, and when they could not achieve their goal, they quietly determined amongst themselves who would live, and who would die.

There had been another team of Mavericks that had coordinated their efforts from Zero's recent past. Before he'd fought the 2nd RSF, before this month. He still saw them in his dreams, dreams he never spoke of to X, for fear of frightening his friend. He was a demon in those dreams, he was changing history.

_I'm not sure what's worse. Mavericks that don't wanna die, or ones that don't care either way. The ones that hit HQ were real professional about it. Things got rough, the ones that could escape did so. The others fragged themselves, not to hide evidence, but to slow us down, to hurt us. The ones in New York were the same._

"Commander Zero?"

The voice of Solar Falcon snapped Zero out of his thoughts. The avian Feraloid was flying just above him, able to keep up with the Ride Chaser with ease. The Crimson Hunter had just passed within a foot of a commuter bus, close enough that his hair whipped against it in the wind.

"I'm paying attention."

"Tell that to those people we just passed."

"Right."

Zero rather liked the new guy. He had guts, and he was throwing himself into the duty without flinching. Normally, he didn't care much for fliers like Falcon, and would have been quick to dump him off with Gavin and his boys. He'd be quite the asset in New York, to be certain. But Zero needed to fill a few slots in the 0 Unit, and he figured it'd be nice to have another Hunter who wasn't afraid to play up close and personal with a Maverick in a pinch, and Falcon looked willing to bring it. Not many Hunters would happily have sub-tanks ripped out of them to use as an IED.

"Commander, HQ just paged me again. They say they can't reach you."

"Huh. Funny that. What do they want?"

Falcon sighed, having quickly become used to Zero shutting down his link to HQ, but still not liking it. "Signas wants us back, double time."

"He say what for?"

Falcon was already gone, a trail of warp light arrowing towards HQ. A moment later, Zero and his Chaser flitted away, surprising a few unsuspecting drivers on the freeway with his abrupt departure.

* * *

Signas was transfixed by the skyline, acknowledging the arrival of Zero and Falcon with a slight nod, gesturing to a pair of seats in front of his desk.

"You deviated from your assigned route into the areas of reconstruction."

"Now I know that isn't what this is about."

Signas sighed. "How is it going out there?"

"Well enough." Considering that a running firefight had ripped through one of the busier city districts, with the worst of the damage having been dealt with in a hurry, things were going far better than expected. Japan's affair with reploidkind had been rougher than most other nations, but it wasn't enough to slow down the speed of which the country adopted newer models of reploid for their daily needs. "I just was passing through, to be honest. We haven't had a serious call since that day, and not everyone in Japan hates the Hunters. Figure we could earn some PR points."

"They still view us as heroes, yes." Signas walked over towards his desk, reaching for a data pad, and casually tossing it towards the Crimson Hunter. "I need to you select a team of ten Hunters, and deploy to Jeju-Do, Korea." There was a moment's pause as Signas guaged his subordinate's response. "Immediately. I have made arrangements with the Korean government under the Emergency Deployment and Intervention Protocol, article three. There should be no interference from the local law enforcement or military presence."

"There definitely wouldn't be any assistance." Zero said. The unified Korean peninsula had long been a part of the GDC by necessity, but had always objected strongly the construction of facilities to house any GDC forces on any of it's territorial holding. The government was insistent that this included the Maverick Hunters. "It must be important if you're going to throw that part of the book at them to get them to cooperate."

"I just received a series of records that tracked all warp network activity during the attack on the 7th. Records I am not supposed to have access to." Signas sat down heavily in his chair, stroking his chin thoughtfully, his expression grave. "It is almost too obvious as a trap, which is why I want you in charge of this excursion. I'll see what I can do to arrange some 'unofficial' support."

"I'm touched." The Crimson Hunter's mind raced in spite of his relaxed outward appearance. _He's really moving fast on this._

"There is a very distinct possibility that Vile and his cohorts are on the island, based on those records. Sending you is may elicit a response, bring him out in the open. The datapad will give you further information on what I've been able to piece together from the data." Signas pounded a fist into his desk, a rare outburst from the normally calm reploid, warping the metal surface with ease. "If Vile is so kind to present us the opportunity, retain his control chip. Dispose of the rest."

Zero and Falcon came to their feet, snapping off salutes. "Sir!"

"One last thing, Zero. You're not to inform X of this assignment until after it is complete. I need him to concentrate on the tasks set before him."

"He'll be upset." Zero said. "I can't think of anyone who wants, no, _deserves_ another crack at Vile."

"Unfortunately, commanders do not always have the luxury of vengeance. My responsibilities lay elsewhere at this time, as do his, and these are things that are more important than my personal feelings." Signas studied the damage he'd inflicted on his desk, seemingly ashamed. "You're both dismissed."

**MSWAT HQ**

**Los Angeles, California**

**12:03 PM**

Hypatia posed coquettishly in front of a mirror in her office/infirmary, her hair and eyes shifting colors every few seconds. She pursed her lips, displeased by her own indecision. Normally this was something she would agonize over before she was on the clock, and she was chastising herself for every moment wasted on a holdover function from her days as an object for a eccentric.

With Vanguard under standby orders until The Captain returned from his 'business meeting' in DC, the most the team could do was paperwork or firing range training with their local MSWAT charges. What it all meant was that Hypatia didn't have to perform the morning maintenance run ups of field active personnel, and it also meant that she was bored.

A polite knock on her door interrupted her mid shift between green and orange hair, her eyes silver. Hesitating a moment before answering , she gave one last look at the mirror and shrugged. "What the hell, why not."

She waved a hand at the security door, disengaging its lock remotely. Standing on the other side was one of the 1st RSF reploids she'd helped maintain after the exercise in Russia, one of the almost comically massive 'Self Propelled Sentient Ordinance Delivery Platforms' the US Army had commissioned. His human frame clearly wouldn't fit through the doorway without effort, which would be a problem if this visit was to become a regular occurrence.

"Hello, Miss Hypatia." The reploid said sheepishly.

She took a moment to read the name etched onto his armored chest plating. "Heimdallr? This is...unexpected."

"Good to see you again, ma'am-"

"Hypatia."

He squirmed with embarrassment. "I apologize, ma'am. I'm here under orders from General Lenneth, former commanding General of the 1st RSF. I'm to be stationed here."

"We're going to need to revamp every single door around here, aren't we?"

"So it would seem, ma'am."

"Are there more of you?"

"Fifty one in total ma'am-"

She stomped her foot emphatically. "Hypatia!"

"Fifty one in total, Hypatia. Your Captain was only able to take in so many after the disbandment of the 1st RSF this morning."

"Disbandment? I'm sorry to hear that."

"We were prepared for it."

Hypatia stepped out into the hallway, finally taking notice that she was just over half his height even though he was standing with his knees slightly bent so as to avoid putting his head into the ceiling. His dilemma was something she was finding incredibly cute. "Any reason in particular you came to inform me that you're here?" She walked around Heimdallr, inspecting him as she went. _Kinda handsome, in that 'big loveable oaf' sorta way._

"There is a problem with my frame, I seem to be stuck partially in Artillery mode. I cannot accurately self diagnose the issue, and I cannot fully deploy in an attempt to correct it. My best guess-"

"Don't spoil it for me. Here I was thinking you came here to see me." She gave him a greatly exaggerated wink. "Not a good start to a new deployment, huh?"

"No." Heimdallr sighed.

"I'll need access to your chest cavity." She pointed to the floor. "Kneel, it'll be easier for us both."

"Out here?"

"Why not? It won't require me to get really intimate with ya, it's probably something simple."

She brought up her left hand while appraising the military precision of his construction. Variable frames were complex, more so than what Hypatia got to work with in MSWAT or Vanguard. Typically lightly armored to allow for more concealed firepower in the variable frame, Heimdallr and his brethren were made ignoring that particular trade off, which made for interesting maintenance issues.

It was a challenge. If there was one thing Hypatia enjoyed more from a man than compliments, it was a challenge. Her left hand split in half, then the halves split again, reconfiguring into general purpose multi-tool, a Cheshire's grin across her face.

_Let's go to work._

**Honolulu, Hawaii**

**9:45 PM**

The weather around the world had changed to a colder climate on average in the wake of the 2090's, the after effects of the total warfare the human race had engaged in still being felt. They would persist for decades to come, and yet were forgotten reminders of mistakes that brought the planet here and now. Scientists had predicted worse in the aftermath of the Wars, but thankfully, most of the grim projections had turned out to be wrong, thanks to the efforts of optimists who happened to be scientists themselves.

Still, it was pouring in Honolulu and across most of the Hawaiian archipelago. The winds were high, though not high enough to be considered tropical storm level. It was cold, not cold enough for hail or snow, but enough that a person needed to be well protected to not feel it. In a few weeks, it'd be colder.

Signas stood alone outside of the Honolulu International Airport terminal, the weather doing little to affect him save for turning his vision blurry as water ran over the lenses of his eyes. He barely registered the local temperatures, and his HUD neatly outlined everything that the heavy rain made it difficult to see otherwise. Around him, tourists, families, businessmen, reploids and humans of all walks of life were in a rush to get inside the terminal, or get inside of their waiting transport to home or hotel. The occasional roar or departing or arriving airliners overpowered nearly everything. Everything save for the things a human could never hear for themselves.

_I'm behind you,_ a voice, thinly disguised, seemed to emanate from all around Signas. Security software quickly analyzed the speaker, and identified him as a friend.

_My systems alerted me to your therm-optics two minutes ago. _Signas did not fight the urge to smile at his small victory. _Civilian reploids, regardless of their jobs, are not legally allowed to possess cloaking devices, save for Maverick Hunters. Furthermore, simply activating such systems at an airport is a violation of international law. Was yours ever removed when you left the military, Erebus? Or perhaps you recently had it reinstalled?_

As though he were walking through a curtain made of falling water, the former special forces reploid strode out of air behind Signas as yet another craft flew overhead, the deafening roar suppressing the sound of the disengaging cloak. Nobody else seemed to notice, too wrapped up with their own cares. An impressive entrance to Signas. He did not seem concerned that Signas had detected him earlier, which meant that he'd chosen to come within range of what he'd estimated was the Hunter's ability to pick out the sound of the cloak in the current environment.

"Lets take a walk. I've arranged security clearance onto the aircraft loading tarmac." Erebus motioned to one of the side gates, a pair of human guards flanking it on either side. Neither man betrayed fear in the face of the two reploids marching purposefully towards them, asking for identification and calling in to the command post for additional confirmation before waving the the pair through.

Despite the weather and time of night, the terminal was still quite busy, workers driving baggage carts at high speed from the loading bays to waiting aircraft. Jet bridges shifted into place next to waiting passenger liners. It was easy to be lost into the controlled chaos of the operation.

"Any particular reason why you chose this location?" Signas asked.

"First thing that came to mind. Hawaii." He pointed further out towards the runways, and they continued their brisk march in that direction, following a specially marked and lit pathway meant to guide persons safely to and from the landing strips in the event of an emergency.

"The local environment makes potential surveillance difficult."

_Indeed._ Erebus had returned to internal communications. _You have information for me, Hunter-Commander._

_My net is open._ There was a brief lag on Signas' HUD as the connection was established, another as the data transfer began and ended within a second. _That's everything I have acquired and analyzed with regards to everything that happened on the 7th._ _As far as you are concerned, some of that data officially does not exist. _There was no immediate response from Erebus, his eyes seemed to stare at nothing as he reviewed everything he'd received. His expression soured after minutes of silence.

_Some of theirs for many of ours, and another strategic objective within China gets hit at the same time. You came to the same conclusions I did. You think it was Nike's forces._

_And like you, I have no solid evidence to confirm the theory._ _I spoke with the head of GDCINT yesterday. The GDC seems to think the recent refinery attacks are part of a false flag operation being run by the Russians. Chief Spencer does not necessarily agree with the Security Council, but he is facing our same dilemma: We have no way to dissuade them convincingly._

_Short of holding them at gunpoint I suppose. _Erebus shook his head. _That's not very encouraging. Any other bad news?_

_GDCINT seems to know about your little project, I am uncertain as to how they uncovered it._

Erebus reacted to that by shifting subjects. _The 1st RSF was officially disbanded this morning. Seems like the recent incidents spooked enough important people to eliminate the last fully reploid command in the US military._

_It is only natural that it would have happened. The Hunters have been integrated with humans since 2118, and we answer to human leadership. Even your unit is integrated, you likely answer to combined human and reploid leadership in some way. The Reploid Special Forces were an experiment at best, as unfortunate as that sounds._

_You're quite the calculating intellect._ The edge in the reply made Signas realize he'd stepped on a potential landmine.

_I do not agree with the decision of your government, but it was bound to happen. We know this._

_'Course we do._ Erebus looked into the dark skies for a moment, his expression still unreadable to Signas. _I owe you for the data, but I have another favor to ask. I need access to the GDC surveillance net, covering all data networks in the Asia area, and all warp network logs from last week._

_Trying to narrow down potential staging areas for the Mavericks?_

_Reading my mind. They had to have some sort of facility to equip themselves at. I might be able to actually spare people to investigate this ourselves. We're relatively unknown at this point, despite the GDC being clued in to us. Makes getting the drop on the enemy easier._

Signas shook his head. _That is not something I can give you. My own access grows more __limited by the day. However, I have been given a general location. Jeju-do._

_How'd you get that lucky break?_ Erebus was impressed.

_The reliability of the source is...questionable under the circumstances as the source of the leak cannot be determined, but the information checks out with the appropriate local surveillance nets. I cross referenced the information with Vile's departure from Japan and warp network arrivals on Jeju-do. I feel it warrants the deployment of Hunters, and I think inside the data you will see my justification further solidified._

_It's a start. _Erebus nodded his thanks, his gaze still skyward, centered on the moon shrouded by the clouds. _I'll see to it that I drum up a little co-op action._

"I think that settles it." Signas switched back to using his physical voice.

"We're not done walking."

Lightning traced across the sky, followed by a rumble. The rain seemed to get heavier.

"The weather might change your mind." Signas warned.

The Captain frowned. "I suppose you're right. I actually enjoy this stuff, though. I think it's the sound the water makes as it hits me. I dunno." Behind them, an airliner's engines howled as it began to back away from its connecting concourse, several ground crew taking a series of rapid final checks of the craft and the tarmac, particularly around the engine intakes. Even as far away as they were, the power of the engines could be felt through their armored frames. Lightning traced across the sky, and Erebus blinked, his eyes rapidly compensating for the burst of light.

"I am surprised you are not going to openly speculate on the source of that data."

"I already know who sent it, so it's not exactly speculation. It's just like her, to be so convenient. Vile was a useful tool, he's outlived his usefulness. It's a waste of resources to do it herself." The Captain shrugged. "Hunters don't tend to leave much of a Maverick intact, we both know that. Whomever you send, if they can take Vile, they will be thorough. I can't blame them for that. Be nice to pick his brain, though."

"He would have to allow it."

"That too." Another thunderclap ripped across the sky. "Thanks for the data. I'll have that back up assembled and sent off to Jeju-do first thing in the morning. You have my word."

"The chance that this will lead us directly to Nike is slim. This is not your fight, Captain Erebus. In a sense, we have both failed to prevent anything."

"Better than nothing. We're both Maverick Hunters at heart, Signas, you just get to be called that officially. We're not going to stop doing our jobs until we're dead." Erebus turned to saunter off, waving as his warp generator activated. Clearly in violation of security regulations, and clearly not caring. "Here's lookin' at you, kid." With that, he was gone.

"_Casa Blanca_?" Signas asked the air where Erebus had been. _That was not as 'mutually beneficial' as I would have liked._

**December 11th, 2133**

**China**

**63 miles south of the Sino-Russian border**

**3:00AM**

Infantry insertion craft had flown lower and faster than was safe or sane to get in and out before the finicky nature of their stealth systems betrayed their presence. Had a single one been caught or crashed on the wrong side of the fence, everything would have been over before it began. Rather, everything would have begun before everyone was ready.

They'd been inserted in secret, originally planned to be much deeper into Chinese territory than this, but expedience was the order of the hour. Even now, an hour after their actual arrival in enemy territory, emergency meetings at the Kremlin were being held, informing the civilian leadership of this operation: The point of no return had long been passed, with the Chinese-Mongolian security pact, with the now common knowledge that the bulk of the Chinese military reploid forces were at the border. Diplomacy had all but failed.

The Spetsnaz were on Chinese soil. War was coming.

The snow and and overcast night helped hide their presence as they moved, in groups of eight, back towards the border. Out of caution they steered clear of trees, for fear of coming across treeborgs seeded with surveillance equipment. Using thermal optical image curtains to conceal themselves, they moved towards targets had been assigned based on up to date satellite intelligence based around what was at the border.

It was part of an older plan, a holdover from the 2090's. It was clearly an act of war, if they were caught, but thus far, they'd been lucky. It was an act of desperation, foolish perhaps, but no other course of action could be seen for the days ahead. On both sides of the shared border, the very best men that Russia could offer prepared to do what they could to stymie the seemingly inevitable Chinese offensive, while the regulars prepared to face the brunt of Chinese armor and manpower. In the seas around the continent, intense anti-submarine patrols were conducted by both navies, desperately trying to mark their foes without being marked themselves.

Men, women, and reploids all sat on a hair trigger, waiting for the word from their respective leaders. The world continued to hold its breath, and wondered how bad it would be _this_ time.

War was coming.

Despite years of training preparing every soldier to do their job, some could not help but hope that the politicians would find a better way to settle this before more lives were lost.


	9. Phase 7: The Supercircus Part One

**Phase 7: The Supercircus (Part One)**

**December 12th, 2133**

**Jeju-do, Korea**

**8:45AM**

Zero found himself wanting to give credit to the Korean officer sitting at the desk before him.

Unlike a number of human military dignitaries he'd had to suffer over the years, this one was not found in his best looking dress uniform. He wore his urban combat fatigues proudly even during mundane tasks at Southern District Command, Jeju-do. His medals were relegated to a very small display stuffed in the corner of his office, probably more to remind himself of how he'd gotten to his position, rather than a means to impress others. For being so slight compared to the average Hunter, he exuded and commanded respect amongst his peers, and it was these qualities the Korean military sought aggressively. Despite being on friendly terms with the GDC, even considered a member state, the Unified Republic of Korea's government refused anything but a paltry GDC presence anywhere within their holdings. The unification of the peninsula had come at a great cost during the 2040's, and the people resolved to never allow the defense of their nation to be dominated by foreign influences. Regardless of any supposed good intentions.

Major-General Bae Myung exemplified the desire of the Korean people to deal with internal and external threats themselves. His service record, the parts Zero could read with his GDC access, was impressive. Less impressive was his hostility towards reploids. He glared at the 'paperwork' on the datapad Zero had presented, as though that would be enough to make the orders within less than legitimate. Finally, he thrust the pad back into Zero's waiting hands.

"As always," Zero began, trying to remain diplomatic, "your assistance in the matter will be appreciated."

"Do you know why Korea does not allow the GDC to form a permanent Maverick Hunter branch within our borders?" Myung spoke as though he'd planned on asking this the moment Zero had arrived. His English was was surprisingly clean, with only the barest hints of an accent.

"Let me guess, because Hunters turn out to be the worse kind of Maverick." Zero leaned forward over the desk, towering over the smaller man. _Screw it._ "I've heard all this before, Major-General, and I'm not interested in wasting my time hearing it again. I'm sure you understand what that directive means. Interfere with a GDC sanctioned Hunter deployment, and you'll die long before you'll ever get out of prison."

"Is that a threat?" Myung looked somewhat amused.

"Absolutely not." Zero said. "Just reminding you of how the world works. Sir."

"Zero Omega, I can assure you that our forces are more than enough to deal with a single Maverick, regardless of who or what it is. However, in the interests of the people whom I serve, we will allow you unfettered access to this island during your search, provided you are discreet." The amusement fell away. "This island is my home. Humans cannot be rebuilt. You can."

Zero's smile bore all teeth. "We aren't here for a single Maverick. You would do well to remember that." He spun to leave the Major-General's office.

"We will cooperate as the law dictates." Myung said as Zero reached the door. "Ensure you keep a tight command of your reploids, otherwise I cannot guarantee your safety in the event of a major incident." He paused for emphasis, a smile that did not reach his eyes creasing his face. "You would do well to remember that."

* * *

The two halves of Jeju-do, north and south, were dominated by two of the largest cities on the planet, surrounding the central mountain and connected to one another. Out of tradition and respect for their separate origins, the halves retained their original names: Jeju City in the north, and Seogwipo to the south. Skyscrapers dotted the combined island city's edge, away from the dormant volcano of Mount Hallasan. Smog hung thick and low through the southern half, where heavy industry and the Korean military established the majority of it's presence. It was the very picture of a modern urban jungle, a sight that gave environmentalists heart palpitations as they protested the unclean industrial practices, out of place in a world that had learned at great cost the effects of pollution in the last century. It was all justified as being necessary for the defense of all Korea.

Guernica sat with another sniper atop what was an apartment complex meshed with a corporate regional headquarters, an insurance company of some sort. If Signas was correct, these people were going to be very busy in the next few days.

He, like every other Hunter that had been picked for this job, was bait. Dangerous, expensive bait. Zero had been honest about it, very blunt. Vile and his new friends hit the Hunters where it'd hurt the most. Thanks to some very timely intelligence work and a few lucky breaks, there was a chance to pay them back in kind here on Jeju-do. They just needed to draw him out. Zero and Signas were convinced that if one of Sigma's bases was on this island, they'd have access to local surveillance networks. Vile would have to know the Hunters were here, and hopefully be too stupid to stay hidden.

The team was scattered about the island in pairs, at first investigating the known warp arrival coordinates that coincided with the timing of the escaped Mavericks at HQ. As expected, they'd found nothing of consequence, and if there'd been any witnesses, they hadn't lucked into a single one. Zero didn't care about that, Hunter presence at those sites alone would hopefully be enough to rattle a cage or too.

Guernica and his partner had chosen the structure for it's unique position in the sector Zero had assigned to them to. It wasn't quite the tallest structure, but it gave them a perfect view of what counted as 'downtown' Seogwipo, which also included the edge of a Korean naval base. From what they could both observe, the base was teeming with movement as men and women worked to secure large containers in their storage facilities or inside one of at least six destroyers they could make out from their position. Other workers appeared to be locking down mechaniloids onto maintenance pads, one of the suggestions Signas had conveyed to the Korean government. _Well, even if they don't like us much, they seem to take us seriously enough._

The specialized magrifles Guernica and his partner were equipped with could reach out and kill the typical Maverick from over three thousand meters away reliably, if the shot took out the control chip. More importantly, the weapons served as augmentations to their field of vision with variable power scopes. Their own eyes could zoom and enhance only so much, in Guernica's case his eyes were capable of zooming in on targets up to ranges half that of his magrifle. A handy capability for distance spotting, it's biggest flaw was that it diminished his situational awareness when in use. Even after years of service with the Hunters, it was one modification he still debated the real value of, considering the funds for it had come out of his own pocket.

"Guer, how we feelin'?"

"Not bad Lao. Can't complain, all things considered."

"Nice fashion statement, with the unfinished paint job and all. Very...punk. I think that's the word I want."

"And yet another crack at my runway looks Must come with being a better shooter than you, even without independently tracking ocular sensors like yours."

The other sniper shrugged, a very interesting gesture from the lizard inspired reploid. "You don't have your usual cover with you today. Kinda surprised." Lao had been in the business for just a bit longer than Guernica, but unlike the humanoid reploid, Lao had been built for the job. There was nothing friendly looking about his komodo dragon influenced design, with obvious liberties taken in the name of efficiency.

Guernica ran a hand through his hair, where his trademark cowboy hat would normally be affixed in place of a protective helmet. "Yeah well, this ain't the place I'd like to lose that thing." _Now I'm going to be self conscious about it._

"It is good to see you up and running." Lao brought up his rifle scope up to his right eye, his left protruding out of his elongated head and pivoting about, making a security sweep that by now was habit for him. "Surprised you didn't go out to the States with the 17th and the 21st."

"Would have, if Lifesaver had cleared me sooner."

"Bad news for me if you weren't here. Ten of us, plus whatever that American SWAT character sends in support, in hunt of Vile and his buddies? We could use the best we got for this." Lao snorted with disgust. "Can't blame Signas, I know. He's working with what the locals'll let us have. Who knows, maybe it'll take a real mess to get 'em to sing a different tune."

_There's a thought._ "Awful optimistic of you, Lao, I never suspected." Guernica jumped onto the roof's edge, taking in the streets below, as much as he could make out through the smog. "Well, remember, we're here to augment local defenses, not handle the problem entirely ourselves. If the problem is still around for us to find, that is."

"Come on, the suspected leader is a hacker that can bypass some of the best security systems money can buy. She hit us, she hit the JSDF, and so far has gotten away with it. If this goes down, we _will_ be doing the heavy lifting, because she's gonna work that magic bullshit of hers again."

"There's the Lao I remember."

* * *

Vile sat alone in his hidden armory, fuming.

Having had a chance to calm down after his last communication with Nike, he was resolved to see through his plan to the end, but even so, he fumed. Not over the prospect of dying, death was hardly a concern to him. He'd done that before, his core memory uploaded in final burst transmissions to hidden servers around the world just as a current body was overwhelmed from forces internal and external, so the chance of this happening again didn't frighten him. Vile was expecting to 'die' any moment now, and if there was anything he hated, it was the wait. That, and having to change his plan significantly. It would have worked fine, he was certain, if a group of wishy-washy Mavericks didn't suddenly find a set of principals contrary to his own to be more important than holding up their end of a bargain.

"I'm not stupid, you little bastards." He snarled at the air around him. "You're thinkin' what I'm thinkin'. 'You've outlived your usefulness', is that it? That's what you're saying right now, aren't you? _Aren't you?_" He suddenly was on his feet, kicking a bulkhead so hard he nearly folded it in half, the steel no match for his sudden outburst.

Any assistance that Nike would have sent was likely no longer something he could rely on. "You did try to destroy her program by killing the servers she was in, hell even I'd take that personally." He removed his foot from the badly dented wall, whirling around and kicking the crate he'd been using as a seat across the room, it and its contents exploding in every direction as it hit a bank of already ruined data servers. "Not like I needed you in the first place!" It was strangely cathartic for him to rage at inanimate things, more and more with every passing day. He stood in place, drawing in deep breaths as his HUD flashed him warnings that his internal temperature was exceeding optimal operational levels. _Didn't I disable this shit already?_

Another window took up his vision, this one of significant interest to him. Having gained access to Jeju-do's traffic control system, he effective had eyes on every major street throughout the island, and combining that with the various drones hidden throughout the island, if he wanted to find something or someone, he would.

Zero Omega walked out of the Jeju-do Autonomous Regional Naval Command Center, his expression one of barely suppressed anger, captured in super high definition by one of the nearby security cameras that dotted the military installation. AI's on the remaining computer clusters inside Vile's hidden sanctuary had marked the Hunter and brought the feed to his attention.

"Finally tracked me here, finally finally finally." The Maverick muttered to himself, studying the frozen still image of Zero, feeling elated. It was almost time, really, truly. Time for payback. Briefly, Vile wondered if X was on the island as well, and hoped he'd be here for the show too. It'd be like a coming out party of sorts, except he was going to kill a whole lot of people. "Bring all the kids you want, Zero. Bring X. Bring anything and everything. Lets sing a little song and dance a little dance." He put a fist though a nearby monitor, and the wall behind it, unable to control the trembling in his body, then ran, almost skipped, off to his control room. If he was really lucky, Nike would send some people over to join the fun, and he'd make sure he took the time to compact whatever he left of them into neat little boxes for delivery back to her as a present.

He hadn't felt this good about an upcoming battle since 2118.

**MSWAT HQ**

**Los Angeles, California**

Vanguard had been friendly enough getting the 1st RSF soldiers acclimated to the more relaxed environment, and the transfer of specialized equipment to maintain them had gone well. Hypatia had proven to be a capable reploid physician, though Heimdallr had expressed some concern that she enjoyed digging around his internals more than he considered normal. Overall, the transition for Lenneth and her chosen had been as swift and smooth as she could hope for. Older habits for the military personnel were going to be difficult to break completely free from. There was no need for fully armed roving patrols around the MSWAT building, civilian Hunters and police handled that well enough. Having joined Vanguard, they were essentially ordered to blend in, but there was a very clear difference between reploids wholly designed for combat, and reploids modified for combat if necessary.

"I cannot believe I've been here for less than three days total, and you've already left me in local command without prior notice." Lenneth sighed, staring at the unapologetic smirk Erebus wore almost mockingly on the wallscreen. He'd taken Kindle's Bravo Team with him to Jeju-do without much warning, congratulating Lenneth on moving up in the Vanguard world, leaving her in temporary command of a base she was still getting used to, of people who had yet to earn her complete trust and certainly weren't giving her theirs. She had no schedule of events to work from, the 'originals' kept to personal schedules for training, and her people were likely to do the same at this rate. It was a professional environment unlike anything she'd experienced for most of her life, and it was difficult for her to see such a loosely regulated organization capable of executing the feats she read about after Apollo's Rebellion.

"About that, things happened. I owe one Commander Signas a favor." His expression grew serious. "I believe former 2nd RSF reploids worked in tandem with Vile in the attack on MHHQ. Signas provided me with information that I believe lends credence to my theory. It's given us a location to work with, and he's got Zero and a crack team here to put out a fire or two if necessary. If it pans out, I wanna be there for it."

Lenneth didn't hide her disappointment. "And of course, you did precisely what I asked you not to."

"I'm telling you about it now." Erebus shrugged.

"We're reploids, how hard would it be to simply direct link with me for an entire second?" Her voice raised with every word. "To let me know why you've run off across the planet without any prior notice, with men and women we jointly command, for a reason I am certain I share some interest in!"

"Not very. How are are things back home?"

"Don't change the subject!" The former general snapped, but upon seeing his damnable smirk return, she gave up on grilling him. "The facilities are adequate. I feel it necessary to warn you that I think your men and women likely do not appreciate the presence of mine."

"There's a number that don't, among the reploids at least, but I've ordered them to deal with it, so they will. I can invite one of them into our private line if you'd like. Kindle is especially concerned with our current arrangement." He chuckled at the understatement. "Very feraloid of him, just concerned about the territory he's 'marked' so to speak. Respectful as all hell to your faces, I'm sure. He's scared of you, scared of me now that he knows my real pedigree. He'll get over it, or I'll find his replacement, and he knows that. They all do."

Lenneth was surprised by his sudden honesty. "You're very frank, Captain."

"Well, I figure I can be with you." He tipped her a lazy salute, then looked over his shoulder, momentarily distracted. "Zero's walking out of his meeting now. Looks pissed. Things will probably get exciting here, I'll report in same time tomorrow. Check your mail." A blinking optical disc icon filled in the lower left corner of her vision. "That's everything, just in case. Get 'em ready to move, but do it real quiet-like."

"I'll call down the squad leaders and convey your alert orders to them." Lennetth was already unpacking the data files Erebus had sent to her, incorporating it all into her own internal simulations. "You really intend to end this in Jeju-do, even if you don't state it directly. It's very likely you'll not find Nike or her people massed on that island." She smirked. "You are an optimist."

"We've got nothing else to work with, I'll take the chances that are presented to us." He waved at her one last time, and the link terminated as he turned away from the secured vid-phone.

* * *

"I can't believe you're insisting you oughta be here," Kindle was saying over the videophone. " The luxury of ignorance. You'd be miserable. 'Sides, you've got a boyfriend and kids who still don't know how to hold a magpistol straight in your squad, Hilde. Cap'n agreed to take Bravo over Alpha, so I don't see why you think this is still up for debate. You can thank me for the favor later."

The blond reploid girl laughed softly at her friend on the other side of the world. "We both know you'd be calling me if it was my team over there as opposed to yours."

"I'd be callin' to laugh at your unfortunate ass. This job really sucks sometimes, you know?" Hilde could see the feraloid lean back in his seat, trying to relax inside of a vehicle not truly meant for his kind. "We both know why he picked my squad anyway, and it's cuz I don't have any humans in it. You've got two."

"I can do with eight reploids what you're doing with ten," she challenged.

"That so? I'd like to see that." Kindle tried to muster up a threatening tone in his voice, but couldn't. "It's real different around here, girl."

"Tell me about it then, I've never really traveled far outside of the US."

Kindle pointed at himself. "I'm not that scary, am I?

"Where's this coming from?"

The feraloid's expression looked almost sad. "I'm crammed into a armored baby carriage, we're not really supposed to be patrolling on foot around here. Still, on the way to this military installation..." Kindle trailed off.

"On the way to this military installation?"

"They hate us. I swear they do, Hilde. They hate us, and their afraid of us. Makes me feel like they'd be happier if I were in a zoo." He winced as he recalled a recent memory. "They can see me sitting in here, and I can see 'em just scared. Like I'm worse than what I'm after."

"Well, humans aren't all that bad." Hilde said. "I guess I'm biased for obvious reasons, though."

"More people like that guy, shit would be real different. 'Spose that's what dreams are for though." He looked away from the camera for a moment, distracted by something. "Looks like I need to get ready to move. Have fun running shit while we're gone."

"I'll try to manage. You don't think much of Commander Lenneth, I see."

"I didn't trust you when you came on board."

"Maybe you're a mysogynist," Hilde said teasingly.

"If I am, I blame you." Finally, it seemed like some of the old Kindle had returned.

"Poor baby." Her expression grew serious. "I've got people on stand-by, just in case. Stay safe."

"You know me, safe is what I do." He broke the connection a moment later.

Hilde felt bad about Kindle at times. He'd come on strong towards her when they'd initially met in MSWAT, and at first she'd taken him for little more than another feraloid without the brains to offset his combat capabilities. His opinion of her had been about as kind, and they had frequently and openly shared these thoughts with one another. As the years had passed, he'd become one of the few she could talk to about more personal issues. She would not soon forget his expression when she told him about Ricardo. He'd been surprised, just like everyone else, but there was something else going on that she picked up on. The more time that passed working with him, the more obvious it became that she had done something hurtful to him, even it hadn't been on purpose.

_He'll be fine, the Captain's with him, Bravo team's as good as any of the others, _ she tried to reassure herself. Being passed over for the assignment had upset her somewhat, but the waiting that came with it was far worse.

**Jeju-do**

"An optimist, she says." Erebus murmured as he walked towards Zero Omega. The Hunter immediately noticed him, stalking his way through pedestrian traffic to meet him, looking out of place among the crowd, and likely feeling vulnerable without his armor.

"Glad to have you on this," Zero growled. "We can't rely on the Koreans for any real assistance unless the worst case scenario does happen. We've been 'politely' requested to be discreet. You know what that means, I'm sure."

"Out of sight, out of mind. They'll be begging for us if and when this goes down." Erebus said. "If we're lucky, this will all be just a very expensive field trip, and we can go home without incident."

"I'm impressed you managed to get your people onto this island without delay." Zero meant it. When he'd first met Erebus, he'd gone by 'Captain' exclusively, and could not stop quoting old films. Part of him now doubted this was even the same reploid from months ago. Whatever it was Erebus represented, it was an organization he gauged to be near or at the level of the Hunters, probably with US government backing. At least, Zero assumed so from what little Signas was letting on. LA MSWAT had no real business being on Jeju-do, so it was obvious there was more to the help Erebus had brought than met the eye.

"It's easy when they don't know about it."

Zero blinked. "What?"

"It's just as I said."

The Crimson Hunter's mouth opened to say one thing, then he caught himself, started to say another, and caught himself again. He couldn't feel headaches like a human could, but he imagined that this would be something that could cause one. "You snuck in?" he asked incredulously.

"I didn't sneak in, that would imply I made an effort to avoid detection," Erebus shrugged. "I'm sure if their security net was as tight as they claim it is, they'd have detected unauthorized warp network usage, and would have sent their own people to investigate. They didn't do it for us, and I'd bet this year's salary that they didn't do it when those Mavericks escaped Japan the other day."

_Not every day you hear someone sound that bored about breaking the laws of a sovereign nation,_ Zero thought. He did have a point, though. "How many?"

"Eleven, including myself. One full squad. I'd prefer more, but as you say, we're still trying to be low-key."

"Ten Hunters total." Zero shook his head. "Largest deployment this place has ever seen. Guess they've never really needed it until now."

"I've got people on standby back home, just the same as you do I'm sure." The sound of a car horn blasted across the street, and Erebus immediately started laughing. "My ride's waiting for me, poor guy's been grousing all day. I'll send you all the access codes to our network, we'll coordinate through that. Good to have you in on this, big Z." With that, Erebus slipped away from the Hunter and into the crowd, knifing between near standstill vehicle traffic, climbing into a vehicle that appeared to be carrying more weight than it should, sinking heavily towards the road in spite of a battery of repulsor lifts.

"Big Z?" Zero asked after Erebus was long gone.

**Moscow, Russian Federation**

_SECTION III A - Current Chinese Readiness vs. Russian Federation_

_According to publicly available information, the PLA currently consists of 2.3 million active members, with 1 million in reserve (though this is being considered a generous estimate). In addition, there are 100,000 known Chinese combat reploid assets. As tensions regarding energen mines along the shared border have increased, so has the readiness of the Chinese military. Presently, they are at the highest state of readiness since 2091. Morale is said to be high, and this month marks the end of intensified training schedules (SEE: Section II A for breakdown of 'Unrelenting Boldness' codenamed series of PLA training exercises conducted from April 2133 to December 2133), culminating in the latest series of shared border deployments by the PLA._

_HUMINT sources from both the United States and our own state security services have determined that this includes active preparation drills for N.B.C. weapons release on both tactical and strategic targets close to the border._

_Our military preparedness has likewise increased in tandem with the Chinese, though numerically we are outnumbered nearly 2:1 in terms of sheer manpower. Technologically, our forces are as capable and as equipped. The challenge lies with the sheer number of warp-capable combat assets the Chinese have to offer. Recent decisions to press Russian Maverick Hunter population into military service will likely be a non-factor in matching this capability. As such, until such a far reaching threat can be thoroughly neutralized, this office highly recommends enforcing war-time warp network protocols going forward, with reinforced EM fields active and guarded at key sites along the shared border for the duration of increased tensions/hostilities. While this will limit our ability reinforce and resupply units in the field, the additional security will prevent the most dangerous of Chinese assets from flanking our units in force with reploids or remote piloted mechaniloids._

_Because the Chinese have so much in the way of fighting potential that can be directed across the shared border, we cannot possibly halt them with expediency without resorting to serious measures, one of the greatest challenge to our forces will be that of morale. Our office estimates that even with the best delaying actions, the Chinese could be able to gain anywhere between 30-60 kilometers of ground within the first 72 hours of hostilities, which puts key strategic targets well within their grasp._

_As per your requests, our office has prepared information based on key defensive scenarios._

_SECTION III B – Scenario One(optimal)_

_The build up along the eastern shared border has given our office a variety of clear axis of advance options. Likely targets as determined by Scenario One (BLUNT DRAGON) will be the energen mines and military facilities near Khabarovsk, and the port of Vladivostok, with the key aim being to cripple our ability to provide for naval assets served by Vladivostok. To accomplish this, one axis of advance will likely be centered on taking control of the Amur River in a drive towards the Straight of Tartary, in essence turning the region into an isolated peninsula outside of our control._

_The sheer size of the potential Forward Edge of Battle Area, coupled with geographic obstacles, makes both attack and defense a difficult proposition. Scenario One calls for a phased withdrawal from the shared border along the projected axis of advance, fighting delaying actions toward strategic objectives. BLUNT DRAGON scenario relies on our ability to bleed the Chinese advance to the point where a successful encirclement and destruction of sizable portions of their forces is possible. Special Warfare Groups currently deployed in theater will also perform irregular warfare operations in attempt to hit key logistics centers, a weakness that could potentially limit their advance and give our own land forces time to shift into better prepared defenses focused on known Chinese objectives._

_BLUNT DRAGON includes provisions for limited tactical WMD release should the situation call for it. Based on precedent, selective, limited use over battlefields should prevent strategic exchange, although this cannot be guaranteed (SEE: Section IV Nuclear, Biological, Chemical Warfare Preparation) during opening hostilities. This office recommends against these provisions unless it can be assured no significant counter strike would occur that would render any defense of the region a Pyrrhic endeavor._

Arseny looked around the room at all the faces of those gathered for this emergency meeting, feeling alone while sitting amongst generals and politicians. Part of him marveled at being invited to something so important, being the only reploid among the aging humans who sat with expressions varying from restrained shock to outright horror. It was easier for Arseny to mask his feelings on the document before his eyes, having read through it over a dozen times before the man from GRU had read this far out loud to his audience. He could understand their open misgivings.

Russia was hurting. Kaminov Facility Three had provided more energen than the Russian government was publicly willing to admit. The projected energy shortages were still a ways away from actually happening, but the speculation alone was throwing the financial markets throughout Asia into a frenzied state. Russia's trading partners were openly seeking other providers of energen, and the recent Chinese deal with Mongolia only made things seem that much worse. What was once a comfortable and relatively safe source of funds was threatening to dry up. While the Chinese had suffered a similar setback, they'd managed to play their cards more shrewdly. Thus, here these men sat, absorbing news that only pounded those facts further into their psyche.

The GRU man, in his twenties, took another hour to finish the briefing, his detached manner making the bad news in the paper seem unreal. Afterward, the young officer walked around the room to each man, handing out a datapad that contained greater details not covered by the short brief. It was a simple matter for him to download the contents and analyze them himself. The room itself made wireless connections an impossibility. Arseny pulled a data link cable out from one of his forearm gauntlets, connecting to the pad. The process was quick and silent, but had not gone unnoticed. Every eye in the room locked onto him expectantly.

"Do you concur with the data, Commander?" asked the director of the GRU, who'd been sitting next to Arseny throughout the brief. He was far from the highest ranking military official here, but with war inevitable, the services of the agency he commanded were highly valued.

It took a moment for the reploid to finish processing everything he'd downloaded. He could feel his body temperature rise as his electronic brain went into overdrive, checking the scenarios and comparing them with his own knowledge of warfare, his experiences as a Hunter and a leader. Distractedly, he was surprised that they seemed willing to give him the time to compile a proper response.

"The scenarios and stratagems within are sound," Arseny began cautiously. "As always, the ability to carry out duties related to each scenario is dependent on the men and women in the field, and their ability to handle initial contact with the enemy." He paused, and fought the urge dictated by his programing to clear his throat. "However, the politics behind the build up to current tensions and future hostilities does not follow a clear logical path."

"Explain your position." Commander In Chief of Land Forces East shot back.

The reploid drew himself up to his full height, watched as every man in the room visibly tensed. Arseny was not designed specifically to intimidate, but his height combined with knowledge of what he could do was enough for the politicians and officers here.

"Were I in command of reploids with the capability to easily penetrate our borders and strike key facilities, I can promise you that I could have rendered this nation incapable of processed energen production, and I would have done it all on December 1st. Following that, I would have eliminated key logistical support centers, and likely would have ensured control of the Geosynchronus Warp Network Grid to allow for my forces to travel with near impunity throughout greater Russia. Short of extremely drastic measures, and luck favoring Russia, you could not possibly be prepared to defend everything vital all at once. My forces would command the element of surprise, and control of the time and place of every strike with complete impunity. The only reason we can sit here and discuss this is that the Chinese either have not realized this, or this was never their intention." Theatrically, Arseny pushed the datapad with the various scenarios out of his reach. "We speak of concerns for Vladivostok and Khabarovsk, I am telling you here and now, they could reach for so much more."

That only produced nervous cough from one member of the group.

"Please continue." CINC-East urged softly.

"The challenges of defending against such capable attackers are nearly insurmountable without a suitable counter force. If the one hundred thousand combat reploids we know they possess are all as eminently capable as those that struck on December 1st, we could not be here discussing what ifs. A capable reploid force of that size with a competent commander would have us discussing the terms of our surrender."

"Consistent with what the Americans have said. Thank you, Arseny." The GRU director stroked his chin in thought. The reploid sat back down, wondering if he'd said too much.

"God knows what the Chinese are thinking," another man lamented. "Do they fear us so much?"

"What of the GDC? Have we gotten any response from their Security Council?" CINC-East sounded hopeful.

The GRU director could only shake his head. "They claim that neither the Chinese or our own intelligence branches have proven to be reliable."

"In an age where so much electronic information can be manipulated without a trace, that is the safest position they can take." Another general, this one commander of the Russian Air Force. "We should expect no less from those opportunists."

Arseny stood from his chair abruptly, which got the attention of the whole room once more. He froze in place, mouth open, but his mind still debating the consequences of speaking out. "It is-" was all he managed before moving to sit once more.

"Continue, Arseny. We value input from a reploid such as yourself." This was Igor Romanov, Secretary General of the Russian Security Council.

_My input, valued well after it became desperately needed, you old bastard. _Arseny respected the man only to the point that he was a human being, and by law and his programing he was expected to defer to the man as an authority figure for as long as he held his post. Romanov, and men like him, had actively sought to prevent the construction of reploids of Arseny's type, units that could have bolstered the defenses at a certain destroyed facility earlier in the month. Units that could have been a reliable hard counter to the Chinese equivalent. Now the military had to almost beg the civilian government to bring all Russian made Maverick Hunters under their wing in the hopes that it would be enough to prepare for the expected onslaught.

"It is apparent to me we have crossed a very dangerous threshold. By deploying Spetsnaz on Chinese soil, we have commuted our first real act of war against the Chinese, and as far as they may be concerned, the second. Our situations are the same. Neither of us can prove any wrong doing committed by one party or the next." Arseny said quietly. "Despite my specifications, I am not a war machine, I am meant only to hunt Mavericks. However, I will support the ultimate decisions of this council to the utmost of my ability. I must emphasize that it is my opinion that we must continue to delay escalation with the Chinese."

"Still hoping your American friends can pull off the largest intelligence coup in recent history?" CINC-EAST asked with a derisive snort. "Just as we cannot prove to the world that the Chinese are at fault here, the Americans cannot prove to us that Mavericks they built and failed to contain are at the heart of all this. That theory isn't even backed by any of their major defense agencies, it's the product of a reploid who once _served_ with the Mavericks in question." The aged officer caught himself with the last comment. "No offense intended, Commander."

"None taken." Arseny's voice remained neutral. Internally, he fought the urge to lash back with some choice commentary about the current policies that had gotten them all there in the first place. He only managed to exercise restraint by reminding himself that despite being invited to the Kremlin for such an important meeting, it was not his role to influence a nation.

"We cannot very well ignore the Chinese threat to our border. Two of our most important industrial centers lie well within striking distance of their conventional forces." Romanov said dismissively. "This part of our current military stance is not up for debate. We must focus on the things we can react to in the here and now." Nods of agreement all around, save for Arseny, an emotionless mask where his face was.

_Valued input indeed. That was fast,_ Arseny thought angrily. Just like that, they'd politely and completely shut him out of the decision making process. He felt as though he'd failed to do his duty as a reploid serving mankind. It confused him, to feel responsible for old men who wanted to send younger men off to die.

**New York City**

**Provisional MH Regional Command Center**

A subtle, tentative knock on his office door let X know that Alia had arrived, quicker than he expected considering the nervous expression that she'd gained when he had requested her presence. He took another look at her file on his data pad, unable to shake feelings of suspicion from his mind. Administrative work was one of his least favorite things to do as a Hunter, and he never felt as organized about it as other Commanders back home seemed to be. Despite this, even he had caught whiff of something clearly doctored about her records.

_Alia No Last Name, incept date classified, built under contract by U.S. Robotics, assigned to Advanced Reploid/Mechaniloid Design Theory and Application Division in conjunction with NASA in 2128. Released in January 2133, contractual obligation fulfilled, Division disbanded, all members reassigned or discharged._

After that, her measurements, and then her _measurements_, how fast fast she could run, jump, the full capabilities of her dash thrusters, the stuff most Hunters really cared about. Armor plating, marked as light. Internally stored weapons, one Mark X-18 Plasma Focused Discharge System. The designations of her key systems were the things that were catching his attention. Everything about her was experimental. She was for all intents a one off, she did excelled in nothing, yet was equipped as any average humanoid designed Hunter might expect to be in the field, but had no recorded field experience. Loaded for bear, but had never gone hunting for any, so said her report, and the more X studied it, the more he was convinced that it was all some sort of sham. The specs of her gear were distinctly average, her electronic brain clocked no faster than average despite the experimental designation. Experimental reploid bodies typically were made to test theories about increased performance, but X would have rated her as a B-class Hunter without hesitation, unless she proved to him she rated otherwise.

Why go through the effort to make a fully customized experimental 'average' reploid, much less one that came so close to matching him in terms of capability?

It was Alia's defensive response to him in the corridor the other day that worried him most. Maverick Hunter units had been infiltrated by saboteurs in the past on several occasions around the world, and had inflicted grievous casualties before being suppressed. If she was something dangerous, they had a chance to nip something very dangerous in the bud. He'd sent a request to Gavin to keep an eye on her as she made her way to his office, and to enter if X signaled for him while he tried to get some information out of her.

Of course, he could be overreacting. The local Lifesaver said she'd checked out okay. Of course, even physical inspections could miss something vital. A one on one chat with her would say more than any clinical report was capable of.

"Come in." X said, as friendly as he could manage, shoving his concerns somewhere deep inside his mind.

The door hissed open, and she walked in, tentatively. He watched as her eyes did another once-over of him, then seemed to inspect the few personal effects X had placed on the desk to remind himself of home. Bolt's words echoed though his mind: _Let it not be said that humans can't make 'em pretty when __they want to._ Alia No Last Name was aesthetically pleasing to look at, if he wanted to be overly polite about it. Out of her light armor, X imagined she looked like any other attractive blond haired, blue eyed twenty something human female.

"Reporting as ordered, Commander X." Alia's salute was crisp, perfectly executed. Military precision.

"Please, sit and relax. This isn't an interrogation." He gestured to the empty chair on her side of his desk. She sat, but did not appear to stand down from her seemingly alert posture, as though she were still at attention. "I'm trying to figure out all of my new people. The better I know my command staff, the easier it will be to get things up to speed around here."

"Of course, sir." Her smile and voice were disarming and she finally leaned back against the seat cushion, and X felt his own tension vanish alongside of hers. He cleared his throat needlessly before continuing.

They started off with basic topics. What it was she was capable of, what she wanted to do for the Hunter organization, particularly under X. It became rapidly apparent that Alia was overqualified for Navigator duty, could definitely be more than just a voice back at HQ, but it was the position she requested.

"I've gone over your personnel file. You worked for NASA?"

"Yessir."

"Can you describe any of that work or is it all classified?"

"Most of it is. As far as my involvement with it is concerned, I can tell you it had a lot to do with you, X."

X blinked. "Me?"

"You're a walking Wonder of the World, Commander X." Alia said matter-of-factly. "A success story, born from extreme hardship. More specialized reploids have failed where you have excelled. You've fought and defeated the Prime Maverick. We wanted to know how, and why. That was why I was built. A similarly equipped and constructed reploid, built by hand, granted the freedom of choice, with no specific purpose in mind. What would he or she do? What would they choose in life?"

This was the furthest thing from any of the scenarios X had projected in his mind. To his credit, he avoided fumbling his next question, but he couldn't keep the surprise or curiosity out of his words. "I'm a B-rank Hunter. I had help from friends and from family, to be sure, but all I did was the best I could, under the circumstances. Why me?"

"Well, technically, you are the father of our species. The United States historically had a...strained relationship with your creator, and precious little remains of his works. You are _it, _X, but we couldn't very well pull you away from your duties to study you. Would you even have allowed it?"

"James Cain's the father, actually." X mused. "That man, we owe him more than we could imagine. I'm just the model he worked from." It amazed him how much emotion he felt just from saying that. Of all the deaths he'd been powerless to prevent, Cain's had been one of the hardest to deal with. He'd been the father his real one never had the chance to be, and ultimately suffered for the choices that lead to the creation of reploids, Mavericks, and eventually the Hunters.

Then he died quite suddenly, and now scholars and politicians around the world argued whether or not his life had only served to bring a new form of death to the world. If he was a hero, or destined to be remembered only as an unintentional villain.

"I'm sorry, Commander. You are correct." The apology was also written across her face, as though she had realized what she'd brought up so casually.

"No offense taken, Alia." X said quietly, an image of the late doctor filling a small portion of his vision before blinking away. "Why would NASA need to study me?"

"To provide a baseline for reploids such as myself, designed to take up a variety of vocations of our own individual choice." The reply came easily, almost rehearsed.

"A baseline." X repeated. Already, his mind was working up more theories than he cared for. Reploids were key to development in high Earth orbits, but NASA didn't handle civilian applications alone. Her specs were similar enough to him that her role as a researcher was still a hard pill for him to swallow.

_A variety of vocations, wonder if they all had something to do with that Buster system you've got built into your arms. Who am I kidding? Years ago, that's where I wanted to be. A scientist. Wonder what really brought you to the Hunters, of all places._

"That's all I can say." Alia said apologetically. "For what it's worth X, the research was never strictly about making more efficient war machines."

"Are you here to be a member of the Hunters, or are you here to further your research?"

"I'm here to be your lead Navigator. Hunting is what you field types do." She spoke as though she were stating the obvious. "For whatever reason, you chose to be what you are today. As I too was born having the ability to choose for myself, I'd prefer not to hunt Mavericks in the field. Rest assured, I'm no longer a researcher for NASA or the United States, that will never affect my ability to serve you." Bitterness crept in, subtle, but there nonetheless. "That part of my life has been over for some time, and I would prefer to keep it that way."

X sent Gavin the following private message: _I think she's clean. Maybe the stress getting to me?_ His reply came within seconds.

_I'll stand down for now. I recommend we still keep an eye on her. Keep her and the other NASA chick with her, that Layer._

"Alia, welcome aboard." He stood from his chair and she did likewise. Her handshake was firm, self-assured.

"Thank you, Commander X. I'm looking forward to serving with and learning more about you." It was a response that caught him off guard, delivered almost completely straight-faced, save for the blushing. "You know, we studied a lot about you, but we never once got to meet you in person. It's a real honor."

"So back when I ran into you in the hall-"

"Nobody said we'd be serving under you." Alia laughed. "I had to be sure you were the real deal."

Gavin sent another private message that flashed across his vision:

_XD Should I leave you two alone?_

_I can't help it if the ladies know that blue is in this year,_ X shot back. _When I'm on, I'm on, what can I say_.

An insistent voice in the back of his head, one that had begun speaking to him after the Repliforce incident, one that he'd long ignored, warned of hidden threats, warned him about this woman. A constant reminder to X of the real price of complacency, the lives of those murdered by a then convenient addition to the 17th turned Maverick. No one had suspected anything about Double then, and even as he put the traitor down, X hadn't wanted to believe that the red stains on his hands had belonged to the members of his unit that he had left behind on Earth. He hoped there had been a misunderstanding, something he'd overlooked. Anything but the reality of the situation.

_She's awful convenient to suddenly have around, isn't she?_ X thought, hating this shadow war more by the second. He almost would have preferred if Sigma or Vile had just shown up in her place to have it out on the spot. There'd have been fewer questions that way.

**Jeju-do**

**11:30AM**

_I really missed the atmosphere._

Solar Falcon's new wings had taken him no time at all to feel as much a part of him as his old set, courtesy of Cleo and the rest of the technicians back at MHHQ. Flying around New Tokyo in the wake of the Maverick assault, while technically a part of his job, had felt more liberating than the zero-g of space, more exhilarating. Despite the limits of the funding provided by the GDC, the Hunters made certain they took care of their own. Falcon had become something of a minor celebrity among younger Hunters, and an example of commitment to the job the veterans were using to psyche up the newer blood. He hadn't wanted any special treatment, but he couldn't deny himself another chance to spread a set of wings and fly.

At six thousand meters up, Jeju-do looked almost as though it were a sort of model display for human habitation design. Mounted on his body were a trio of data acquisition pods, with specialized search radars, scanning equipment, and super-high resolution cameras. It limited his maneuverability, but he did not mind it much. At this altitude, he was all alone, save for the occasional passenger jet he could see in the distance. In another sense, he was not alone. Back at MHHQ, Falcon had no less than six Navigators remotely connected to his data packs, all of which were doing the really important work of pouring over the incoming data, looking for any sign of activity from Vile or his allies. His job was simply to get the data packs to this altitude, to defend the recon gear he was fitted with, and to provide the Hunters on the ground air support should it become necessary. A different role from what he'd been built for, but he threw himself into the job with the same willingness he'd shown on the 7th.

_Solar Falcon, please come left 35, maintain present airspeed and altitude._ That was one of the new replacement Navigators who had taken up the role of the lead voice he listened to in the air. Her voice was crisp and experienced, and the Hunter briefly wondered if she was former military like he was. _Time to Waypoint Five, three minutes, five seconds._

_Course correction acknowledged, HQ._ He checked his GPS._ Mount Hallasan?_

_Commander Signas wants a thorough scan of the area. One of the warp signatures was tracked had their endpoints registered in the vicinity of the primary crater lake at the top of the mountain._

The peak itself was ringed by low clouds, and in the early day sun, it was a sight worthy of a greeting card, or for a multi-part series on The Nature Network complete with overwrought British narrator. He took a glance south of himself, noting the blinking icons that designated the current positions of Hunters throughout the southern half of the island, as well as the new icons that represented the Americans who'd volunteered their services. Falcon wasn't sure he understood why they were involved, but he had a feeling he wasn't really meant to.

For a moment, his HUD distorted, a hint of static playing across it for a second before clearing up. A quick self diagnostic revealed nothing alarming, local atmospheric interference. _Something to keep an eye on._ Facing forward, he continued on his solitary flight.

* * *

Vile rarely appreciated music. When he had been on the wrong side of the tracks, he knew a few Hunters who preferred to decompress after a long day with music of varying genres and time periods. It was all mostly garbage to him. He could remember spending more time at the shooting range after a good hunt. Shooting tended to deal with the stress better than anything else he ever tried. These days, it was becoming more and more rare that he could just shoot something or someone to calm himself down. Suffering repeated death and reconstruction for any number of reasons (none of which he would ever attribute fault to himself or his actions) served only make the ringing in between his electronic ears grow louder, as though something was demanding his attention with every passing moment. He could not answer it the way he would have liked, not until today.

As he stabbed away rapidly at a touchscreen inputting the final commands to his latest work, he'd begun to understand why some of his deceased former comrades listened to music as they did. He even saw some merit as to why it was ever composed in the first place.

"Some things," he muttered, "just need to be expressed in certain ways." With Sigma in hiding or utterly dead (Vile could care less either way), he'd found himself in a surprising position of power, with no pet projects he was simply attached to, no real guidelines or overall plan of action. Just his own personal desires, and far more resources than he'd ever been entrusted with when Sigma was alive and actively leading from the rear, except for when he didn't a couple years back, and there hadn't been anything left worth salvaging.

Jeju-do made an excellent target, the more Vile thought about it. It was densely populated and extremely built up, the result of much of the Korean mainland remaining unsuitable for habitation in the aftermath of the 2040's and the 2090's. It was considered the second capital of the nation, but far more massive when compared to Seoul, with more of the nation's industrial strength finding a home on the island with every passing year.

Korea's insistence on defending itself with its own means made it shun the sort of immediate external support most GDC members could rely upon in emergencies. It lacked reploids, but in the name of bolstering their human forces the Korean military spent much money on the research and acquisition of some of the best mechaniloid weapon systems one the planet. Mechaniloids could not rebel against humans of their own free will, their 'dumb' AI unable to process the very nature of their relationship to humans as anything other than 'Master-Servant', and consequently could not see a different existence as a possibility.

They could, however, be influenced via external means. A simple reworking of their core logic, really.

Military mechaniloids did not have a trace of the traditional Core Module that had fallen somewhat out of fashion with the rise of reploids. It could have potentially interfered with certain tasks that could ultimately involve turning humans into something better suited for use as fertilizer. They were programed to follow mission specific orders from designated 'commander-class' individuals, or accept direct control input from remote operators.

A lack of a Core Module, a lack of the three defining laws of robotics, did not mean that another set of rules could not be implanted.

Simply thinking about those three simple commands made Vile hear the voice once more, the voice of an embittered husk of a man, spitting, snarling those three words again and again and again and again-

"Shut up. Shut up. Shut up, shut up, WHATTODO?"

_Destroy._

Seeing red, screaming incoherently, Vile stood his seat, kicking it across the darkened room, feeling what he assumed was physical pleasure at seeing the flimsy thing shattered into so many pieces and wondering why it couldn't have been something sentient, something that could have begged for mercy-

_Infect._

Almost throwing himself at the touchscreen, his breathing irregular, heat warnings flashing all over his HUD, he typed rapidly, his helmet pressing so hard against the flatpanel display that it actually warped and cracked right down the center. Within moments, he found himself rapidly jabbing the Execute command key with an index finger, a friendly tone informing him that the deed was done with every press, until his finger, then his whole hand had smashed completely through the touchscreen-

_Survive._

"Optional," Vile whispered hoarsely. "Always optional."

As he sank to his knees, laughter echoing throughout the whole facility, he wondered if Beethoven, when composing his Great Fugue, felt as Vile did, unable to understand the world through traditional means, yet screaming, demanding for the world to listen.

* * *

_There are twenty one known external hostile assets on Jeju-do,_ Nike's voice seemed to come from every direction around Adam and Bernard. _The information is from a source placed within the Hunters._

The two soldiers exchanged a look. It was rather unnerving to work with someone as eminently capable as Nike was at getting information from electronic sources. Thinking about it for too long gave rise to a number of conspiracy theories, made it difficult to fully trust her. To Nike's credit, she was very aware of that. She openly refused to delve deeply into the minds of her people for any reason.

_Are all primary targets within the operation zone? _Adam asked.

_Negative. X is currently in New York._

_Two out of three isn't bad. What should we do about non-primary targets?_

_Vile's plan should be enough for them to deal with, you are still free to engage as the situation demands for it. I'll leave the specifics of this phase in your hands. It's almost time. _With that, the cool, liquid like presence of Nike melted away from their minds.

The pair had been rapidly re-modified back on the submarine, their bodies more human in appearance than they'd been when assaulting MHHQ. To anyone at the crowded street corner cafe, they looked like businessmen enjoying some time out of the office, downing noodles and tea in hopes of powering through the rest of the day. Their suitcases looked innocuous but very expensive, as did their business suits. They probably could have fit into the local corporate offices of Daewoo or Samsung. To keep up appearances, they spoke rapid, slang filled Korean. Just a pair of twenty somethings looking to move up in the corporate world, with a disassembled mag-rifle divided between their suitcases.

On their HUDs, the last known positions of the Hunters flashed, with a pair of particular interest atop a building six blocks away from them. These, the Mavericks decided, were sharpshooters, and consequently would need to be given a great deal of respect. They would need to mark them somehow, as Nike would not be able to maintain her current intelligence gathering position for very long. It was assumed the sharpshooters in question were likely mobile, and if they were Hunters they could travel a fair distance very quickly. They were more worrisome to the Mavericks than the pair a block away at street level.

For the moment, Adam and Bernard were restricted in their movements until they could deal with that potential threat.

"We should probably get moving." Bernard said abruptly, standing from his chair. Adam nodded in agreement. A faint buzzing filled the air, a 'sound' only reploids could perceive.

* * *

"Twenty one of us, for one goddamned mega-city, one of the largest on the planet for crying out loud. Do these people want us to fail?" Kindle had been grumbling since they'd arrived, and it was a sentiment shared by Hunter and Vanguard member alike. The Korean insistence on limiting Hunter presence was hampering them in every way imaginable. The entire plan being little more than a waiting game did not improve morale. Fortunately, the Hunters had brought along what appeared to be a literal AWACS bird, and that was helping cover more ground.

"They have legitimate reasons for their concerns." Erebus said. The two found themselves crammed into a armored jeep, traditionally used by humans, the size of both reploids made for a tight fit. They were headed towards a warehouse district that had been near one of the projected unauthorized warp exits in the data Sigma had provided. Hunters had already scoured the area and found nothing, but it never hurt to have another set of eyes take another pass.

"Is that why we've been in these bullet sponges driving around for the last three hours?"

"Reploids don't patrol the streets of Jeju-do, especially when they aren't supposed to be here in the first place, that's why.. Those are the rules we've got to play by."

"Feels like I'm gonna to break this door if I shift a little too much to the left."

"Bitch, bitch, bitch."

Traffic was relatively thick, but paled in comparison to a rush hour in downtown Los Angeles. Despite this, the part of the city they were in was considerably livelier than home. Most people tended to walk in Jeju-do, to work, to home, to clubs, it was a way to save money. It was also a government mandate to cut back on pollution. Despite the seeming prevalence of clean energy vehicles around the world, the bottom line was not everyone could afford them in Unified Korea. Some time after the 2090's, the planet had regressed somewhat from the green movement, as the recovery the world needed could not be provided as efficiently or as quickly when compared to less environmentally friendly techniques and machines.

They drove past a cafe, seeing businessmen and women enjoying blissfully ignorant lunch breaks, and Kindle wondered just how many actually were concerned with the madness sweeping a part of the world that was much closer than he thought would be comfortable. In many ways it was quite eerie to him that the rhetoric often spouted by world leaders on the eve of conflict was conspicuously low key, with the Chinese and the Russians taking equally defensive stances over matters publicly. It was clear they were hoping the other guy would start it so they could end it swiftly and decisively. The GDC was trying to put on the face of a concerned third party who did not wish to see neighbors fight, and even seemed convincing about it.

_Hell, if they don't wanna scrap so badly, why are they gearing up for it?_

Kindle had other concerns that were more personal. He did not trust the new arrivals back at Los Angeles. They bore too much resemblance to Mavericks he'd personally dispatched merely months ago, and while there was a reasonable explanation for it, he wasn't willing to let something like that go so easily. As a whole, the Vanguard concept was more than he'd originally signed on with The Captain for, but he thought that the original people, those who'd served in LA MSWAT, were good enough. Now he was feeling like he could eventually be playing second string to people built totally for war and not much else.

"Hey, Captain, 'bout those RSF types you invited to Vanguard, what's the deal?"

"Why did they join, or why aren't they here with us right now?"

"Both, I guess."

Erebus gave Kindle a light punch to his chestplate. "Tough as you are, it's not enough against Nike or her comrades. It's not that your armor would fail you, and it isn't that you don't technically have a better design for combat. You know what? I'd give you the win in a straight up fight against any one of them, Nike included. Thing is, they don't fight as individuals, they don't fight the way you were built to fight, the way we did things in MSWAT."

"MSWAT was a team, and unless something's changed that I don't know about, Vanguard's a team."

"It's different."

"Lotsa shit is different, gimme some details. How good could they possibly be?" Kindle clearly wasn't buying it. "C'mon, boss, we came out of September in better shape than anyone expected."

"It's a level of coordination and synchronicity we've never achieved. Most reploids are simply not built for it." Erebus said matter-of-factly. "You learned teamwork. They're born with it."

The feraloid's laugh was harsh. "If yer from such a crew of badasses, what's had ya runnin' a mere MSWAT unit fer as long as ya have?"

"I didn't want to be 'that good' any more."

Something about the way Erebus had said his last comment dissuaded Kindle from pressing him on the matter, for the moment. _If he ain't talkin' I got the 'net right here._ There were more than enough conspiracy theory sites he could visit with 'information' on the 2nd RSF, places that would talk about what they did that might have driven The Captain into his current life, even if they were embellished to varying degrees, there was always a certain amount of truth to the stories.

The problem now was that he didn't have the 'net. His connection to the satellites overhead had been severed. Trying the local networks, he found his connection totally severed.

They came to a stop at a traffic light, and that was when Erebus and Kindle both noticed that everyone on the sidewalks who had a cellular phone was working them with varying degrees of frustration. Some called into their phones repeatedly, trying to reach whomever they'd been talking to moments before. Others sighed, pocketed the devices and continued on their way. All around them, the sight was repeated. Even inside other passenger vehicles, they could see people tapping on their earpieces, retrying lost calls.

"I can't raise Zero, or anyone else." Erebus said quickly. "Warp network is down as well."

"Can't be an EM field, we'd have been tipped off by our sensors. Local jamming?"

"Switch to autistic mode, do not accept any wireless access requests, do not attempt any wireless access without my permission!" Erebus opened the door to the vehicle, kicked it open really, and stepped out onto the street, breaking into a run towards the last known position of the nearest friendlies.

"Captain, what the hell is going on?" Kindle easily caught up with Erebus, built as he was for greater speed. They could already hear the honking of horns from other vehicles stuck behind the one they abandoned.

"It's an ambush."

* * *

Falcon realized something was very wrong when everyone's positional markers dropped off of his HUD as though they'd never existed in the first place. Trying to raise anyone was met with static. His line to HQ was still open, and he could hear panic sweep through the team of navigators, in spite of the sudden interference to his connection back home. He wondered if they were seeing what he was seeing, wondered if they believed they just witnessed the loss of Zero and the rest of his handpicked team.

"Falc-...signal... -mely weak...have you...you... green...-ation?"

"Heavy interference HQ, are you receiving my visual data?"

There was no further response, only static. He tried once more to reach his comrades personally, and met the same end with each. A subtle, gentle buzzing sound seemed to creep into his audio pick ups, unlike anything he'd heard before. It faded now and again, but it was undeniably there. He swore that buried within it all, there was chanting of some sort. Abruptly, a warning splayed across his HUD:

**Caution! Unauthorized Access Rewrite attempt to Core Memory detected! Attempt blocked, self defense protocols activated, affected data nodes purged and formatted, all further external signal/data access denied. Autistic Mode engaged.**

It was followed by a stream of error messages that continued until he closed the window. He felt himself shudder, fear encompassing him for a brief moment. He halted his forward flight, and began to rapidly lose altitude, headed towards the mountain below.

_Determine location of unauthorized access attempt?_

**Unable to pinpoint, analysis of attack follows: Malicious core logic rewrite code hidden within Class A Pervasive Network Flood, source- a wide-range high frequency transmission detected from 237 potential locations, correction, 312, correc- Error, signal source count rising too rapidly. Recommend Autistic Mode until signal transmission is confirmed ceased.**

So high in the sky, and with no-one in contact, Falcon felt very alone in the world. He looked back toward the part of the city where he'd left his new comrades behind, and wondered if they had shared his luck.

* * *

The attack had begun quietly and in earnest. Sigma had planned for something similar early in his campaigns, a form of 'shock and awe', a demonstration of his vast reach and power as the Prime Maverick. Unfortunately for him, he was not around to see it, and yet he was a part of nearly every facet of this attack.

A simple piece of code, forcing three simple directives into anyone or thing that could follow them.

It began as a crude signal broadcast, but made more effective in that it used so many transmitters that the whole of Jeju-do had been blanketed. Geosynchronous warp network satellites over Jeju-do and greater Korea were affected by the transmission via their own connections to terrestrial facilities that had been hit by the bug. IT engineers were facing one of their greatest nightmares, finding that they would shut down afflicted transmitter systems, only for three more to suddenly come online, issuing forth the unauthorized signal. Humans had no real understanding of what was being transmitted save that it was dangerous for having caused so much havoc across so many vital networked systems.

Reploids knew only too well.

Most had been lucky. Reploids were now required to have even more sophisticated internal defenses than ever. Most detected the hidden data transmission, and their security programs immediately suspected the threat, and shut it out before anything serious could come of it. In this way, the attack was a monumental failure. Perhaps in the earliest years of Sigma's rebellions, such a broad, unfocused method would have net the cause a respectable number of new foot soldiers, perhaps even turning a number of Maverick Hunters whose internal defenses were not up to snuff compared to others.

Today, every Hunter on Jeju-do was spared this conversion. Even the members of Vanguard had reacted quickly to the threat. They were safe, relatively, for now.

Civilian reploids, the few that were allowed on Jeju-do, were not all so lucky to avoid infection, but other measures built into their bodies took action. In one office, two 'maids' suddenly fell to their knees, screamed incoherently, as smoke issued from seams all along surface of their heads, before they fell heavily to the floor, dead long before even that. A scare rippled though an air traffic control tower as the pilot of a heavy passenger airliner reported one of the reploids on board suddenly brandished his plasma buster, pointed it underneath his chin, and in one shot reduced his head to molten slag. The plasma continued onward, blasting open a six foot wide hole in the roof of the pressurized cabin, forcing the craft to hurriedly drop altitude and prepare for an emergency landing at Jeju International Airport. Others were not nearly so dramatic, safety protocols immediately shutting down afflicted reploids, causing a number to simply collapse where they stood.

Cellular networks were immediately shutdown by every provider on the island. Television networks fell silent. The internet seemingly died all over the island. Anything that could carry the transmission was systematically being shut down as quickly as was possible. In some places, the local power grids simply died, remedied by older, less 'networked' back up systems coming into play, but even a single minute without power was enough to start a panic. People were cut of from the things they relied upon every minute of every day. It did not take long before people realized that everyone around them was being inconvenienced by the same things.

In many cases, this was realized on the road as traffic lights abruptly stopped functioning correctly. Inevitably there were accidents, fatalities, as emergency services could not be called upon by the populace, traffic cameras that could have relayed accident footage to the necessary authorities were down, and even if help could be easily summoned, there was simply no way paramedics could be at every single place on the island to help those in need. It was worse on the freeways, where magnetically guided vehicles suddenly 'jumped' their proverbial tracks, catching many a driver by surprise. The heavy reliance on automation struck longer distance drivers the hardest.

To the average Korean civilian, it looked as though the world was shutting down around them for no reason at all. To those in the know, fighting whatever this incident was being caused by, locked away in data centers throughout the island, they felt just as powerless

Despite all this, the primary targets of this attack had managed to slip between the cracks, and in that sense Vile's mission was already a failure.

He'd expected this, which was why he was prepared to go back above ground and take care of the Hunters himself. He had other assets to throw into the battle, and he could have left it all up to his puppets while he sat, safe and secure. To Vile, sitting in comfort when he had a chance to do some real wetwork would be inexcusable. He even hoped that Nike had truly betrayed him, hoped she'd sent her little toy soldiers his way. The more the merrier. It wouldn't be the same as ripping the life out of her personally, but knowing her eavesdropping antics, perhaps he would get lucky and through the violence he would inflict on her dutiful lambs, he could convey just how little he cared for her and her little plans for anything other than target practice.

* * *

At Naval Air Station Gangjeong, the largest military installation on Jeju-do, a hundred specially modified Type 16 Mitsubatchi Air Support Mechaniloids sat in specially constructed shelters that were intended to survive direct hits from bunker busters. Many of the units were did not belong to the base, but rather the ships that were visiting its docks. These naval variants of Mitsubatchi were typically assigned to anti-submarine patrols throughout the Yellow Sea, working in conjunction with the Chinese navy. A day before, orders had come in from GDC Regional Command to restrain these units by any available means, as part of a covert Maverick Hunter action on Jeju-do. The exact reasons why had remained vague, but it didn't take much imagination for maintenance crews to come up with their own theories, and they all pointed to the involvement of these specific mechaniloid types in the Maverick incident in New Tokyo. Many nations that owned Mitsubatchi series mechaniloids had already pulled theirs off active duty for 'security upgrades', and Korea was not keen on being an exception to the trend.

For them to escape their moorings, one would need to bypass various levels of software and hardware security, and then escape their bunkers. The majority of their optional equipment had been stripped from them, leaving only their standard integrated armaments. They were 'harmless'.

Acting as one, the 'Bee Bladers' suddenly did exactly what should not have been possible, fighting and disengaging their restraints, engines roaring to life.


	10. Phase 8: The Supercircus Part Two

**Phase 8: The Supercircus (Part Two)**

**December 12th, 2133  
****Seogwipo, Jeju-do, Korea  
****11:59 AM**

Zero felt rather isolated, having struck out on his own and leaving the rest of the Hunters in pairs, save for Falcon, whom he'd ordered to perform a fly over of Mount Hallasan, one of several locations that had been pointed out by Signas' data. His internal diagnostics displays had been giving him a rough interpretation of the situation around him, but with communications channels deemed unsafe for use, he was cut off from his people, and from the vital satellite intelligence MHHQ could provide. Fortunately, they'd all agreed to a rally point, and it wasn't very far from his current position. It was one of the taller office/apartment combinations towers where he had specifically posted Guernica and Lao, which gave them a good vantage point of Naval Air Station Gangjeong, where his meeting had taken place, and of two of the points where the Mavericks were suspected to have warped directly to after they escaped MHHQ on the 7th. If he was lucky, he would see everyone there, and they could formulate some sort of plan to trace the source of the rogue transmission, and terminate it.

He felt some surprise at the nature of this new attack. It did not fit the psychological profile of the enemy he had been building since MHHQ was attacked. If the marks they were hunting were responsible, this was the most unfocused of their actions. Assuming that the data Signas had provided about the Mavericks was accurate, they were also responsible for the attacks on the energen facilities in China and Russia, and they were definitely survivors of the Los Angeles incident.

Zero was starting to understand and even respect the _modus operandi_ of this particular group of Mavericks. Small strike teams for very big objectives, the in-the-field acquisition of 'local resources' to use as reinforcements, the consistent use of mechaniloids from local military bases. He could even see the distinction from their methods and those of Vile's. Where as Nike's people had focused almost exclusively on the Hunters, with the specific intent on crippling or destroying the capabilities of Hunters in Japan and in the US, Vile had all but admitted that his involvement was just an excuse to kill as many people as he could. He was the only wrinkle in an otherwise deadly coordinated team of committed fighters.

The more Zero thought about it, the more he started to see how the former military Mavericks saw the world, how they would act, react. They were men and women comfortably in control of the situation they'd engineered, able to pick and choose where, when, and how they would strike. They had no need to risk a dangerous battle with Hunters actively on the prowl for them, not if they wished to maintain their secrecy on Jeju-do for much longer._ If_ their base of operations was truly on this island.

_Interesting that information pointing to Jeju-do just fell into Signas' lap like that, information he admits he isn't supposed to have and couldn't have gotten on his own, _Zero thought. _We don't know where they're really coming from, we just have information that conveniently links them to here. Their leader's a master of information manipulation, and everything we've dealt with up to this point has been a result of a series of convenient, engineered coincidences. We're being steered into specific responses they have created specifically for us. The real question is for what exactly._

_There's no way we're catching them here. They probably aren't even on this island anymore. Why direct us here, then?_

His thoughts were interrupted by the first explosions ripping through NAS Gangjeong behind him.

_I want to be surprised, I really do._

From where he stood, roughly a mile away from the main gate to the base, Zero was still able to make out some of the grim details of this new attack. Missile trails, tracers, and the occasional beam cannon shot rose from the ground, the locations obscured in places by buildings, smoke or flame. In the sky, juking, bobbing, weaving between the ground fire and returning some of their own with robotic precision, were Mitsubatchi, Korean models. They didn't appear to be as fully loaded as the group that hit New Tokyo, but they seemed to be doing fine with their built in auto-cannons and ventral mounted plasma canons.

_That has to be the whole base compliment up there._

Other contacts were picked up by his HUD and marked, headed towards the city. In total, he could confirm over eighty mechaniloid units in the air, though occasionally the beleaguered ground defenses at the naval base managed to pick one out of the sky. Zero watched as stricken Mitsubatchi deliberately steered themselves as much was possible towards standing structures, one final desperate attempt at killing more of their enemy before the end.

Recalling where he'd assigned people when they had all first arrived on the island, Zero knew that he was the closest that could respond to this, even assuming the others were going to the predetermined rally point. He had to trust that the others would know what he was doing, and support him without needing to be told to. There was no doubt in his mind that he could rely on the others to take down the few Bee Bladers headed towards the population centers at the moment. He also did not doubt that if local defense forces did not manage to get their act together at Gangjeong, his people would be hard pressed to stop so many rogue mechaniloids once they got into the cities of Seogwipo and Jeju proper.

If NAS Gangjeong was wiped out, the Hunters and Vanguard soldiers would have little in the way of support from the local human military until reinforcements arrived from the mainlands, which would be hours under the best predictions Zero could offer. If Vile or the other Mavericks were at the base, Zero needed to be there as well.

Course of action decided, Zero Omega disabled the limiters to his movement and combat systems, and broke into a full sprint, down the center of the street he was on, leaping over vehicles and humans as necessary.

He found himself hoping, almost pleading to some unknown power, that Vile was there. The other Mavericks would just be bonus points.

He was minutes out at this speed.

**Maverick Hunter HQ New Tokyo**

The presence of Signas in the command center made everyone else somewhat nervous, only amplifying the tension felt after they'd lost contact with not only the entire Hunter team sent to Jeju-do, and the Americans who'd volunteered for the joint operation, but Jeju-do itself had simply vanished off the Network. Geosynchronous satellites that facilitated the Warp Network were also down, which made sending reinforcements for the Hunters difficult, if not impossible. A bad week, becoming worse.

"I need up to the minute updates on Jeju-do from the Korean Ministry of Defense!" Signas snapped, marching over to the blue-haired female reploid in charge of providing operational support for Zero's team. "What are we up against, Navigator Beryl?"

"Commander, as far as I can tell, it's a Pervasive Network Flood, disguising a viral payload. I've had to cut off our data links to anything outgoing from Jeju-do-"

"In turn cutting our links to anyone we have sent over there."

"It's not the best solution, sir!" Beryl's voice raised to a near-shout, and she half stood our of her seat before she reminded herself who she was about to start arguing with. Signas himself took a step back, clearing his throat unnecessarily. "Sir...I've been trying to find a way-"

"There is no need to defend your actions." The commander's voice was just above a whisper.

"-it's just not safe for our own networks, any reploid at HQ, sir..." Beryl said, her voice wavering now. "Our analysis of what we did catch of the transmissions out of Jeju-do confirms...it's _the_ Virus. A variant, but definitely the Virus- I was last communicating with Solar Falcon, the signal got so distorted and weak- He could, they all could-"

"Good lord." Signas allowed himself to consider the implications of this. Jeju-do had two military facilities, on the north and southern coasts of the island, there were over a million civilian residents also to consider.

In a sense, it was a return to form for the enemy. Repliforce had, for the most part, willingly participated in their rebellion. In Los Angeles, the 2nd RSF had not simply chosen to become Mavericks, but upon surrender, not a single trace of any irregularities could be found in their systems. Not even Repliforce had been able to say that. With a Virus variant detected, that eliminated the possibility that this had simply been an act of free will on the part of Nike's elusive forces.

At least, this made the next course of action simple.

"Keep trying to re-establish contact with our people, Beryl, inform me as soon as you succeed."

She nodded jerkily, then immersed herself with her new orders, fingers rapidly playing across the holographic control panels that opened and closed before her. Signas returned to his seat at the center of the room, the primary communications screen already demanding his attention. As soon as he accepted the transmission, he found himself staring at a visibly upset female reploid.

"I am Lenneth, second in command of Vanguard. Signas, _what the hell is going on in Jeju-do?_"

"We're still piecing together what little intel we have available. I was actually about to contact you, as per my agreement with Erebus." He was speaking truthfully in that regard, he was going to need the help of the remainder of Vanguard, if this was truly a worst case scenario.

"I've lost all form of contact with Erebus and all of Bravo team-"

"And Jeju-do is completely off the data and warp networks, we are aware. We have intelligence that indicates we may be facing a serious Maverick riot on the island."

"That's what the media is reporting right now here in the States. NORAD lost contact with one of its communications arrays in orbit within the affected area, that was the feed I was using to keep in touch with my- our people. The few images we have aren't pretty. Would you like them uploaded?"

"I would, yes." _How fast, how _far_ has this spread already? _Signas wondered. His answer were six other connection requests from other callers, one of them identified as the GDC Security Council. If the media in the US was already making a story out of this, it'd be impossible to contain it in any reasonable way once more details were available. "Lenneth, how prepared can you be to send reinforcements to Jeju-do? I'll do what I can to convince the Koreans and the GDC to allow more...Hunters onto their soil."

"I will place all remaining Vanguard teams on standby." Lenneth nodded in understanding, but the worry that creased her face had not vanished. "Just let us know when we're clear to warp in. Erebus informed us of the restrictions in place from the Koreans, but even so. We would like to help, if at all possible."

"The offer is appreciated, General."

"Nice to hear that title one more time."

She broke the connection first. Signas decided he liked this Lenneth. All business, little small talk. A good fit for the more relaxed, more willfully obtuse Erebus.

He took the next most important call, in terms of chain of command. The faces of the aging men and women, heads of the GDC security council, stared at him intently as the Secretary General began to grill him on the situation and his response. And dutifully, Signas answered to the best of his ability. Finally, he'd managed to satisfy the inquisition, and fired off a pointed query of his own:

If the situation was indeed so unacceptable, why deny him the deployment of more units?

The answer was 'complicated' enough that he found his focus on the conversation dwindling, even as their apparent displeasure was made more obvious to him. Somehow, the Hunters, more specifically Signas, were somehow at fault for not preventing this. He distracted himself from the accusations by studying the final images of Jeju-do from the NORAD satellite that Lenneth had uploaded.

_The attack started at NAS Gangjeong, that much has been made clear. Why?_

**MSWAT HQ  
****Los Angeles, California**

Lenneth had ordered all of Vanguard to prepare for immediate deployment, despite there being no clear way to tell when and if they would be allowed to act, they were going to be ready. The media was doing a bang up job with what little information they had, with commentators debating the wisdom of Korean policy towards Maverick Hunters on their soil, or they discussed whether or not the Korean military was capable of dealing with a significant Maverick Uprising, should this have been the start of one. Much of it was noise running in the background for Vanguard, noise that happened to carry some pieces of interesting information about where they could be going rather soon.

The standby order did not mean much to Ricardo Sato. As a human, he was limited in his 'usefulness' to the whole unit. Unable to warp, if the mission lay far away, he could not participate. It angered him, despite knowing that this was how things were going to be. Still, he joined the rest of Alpha squad in the prep room, preparing to don his gear, "just in case." For the moment, his attention was focused on Hilde as she slipped into her additional protective armor.

"You...don't really have to be here." Hilde spoke almost carefully.

"I know. This is probably about Korea. I know where I'll be." He smirked as he pulled as hard as possible on the straps of Hilde's specially modified combat vest that fit over her standard armor. Despite her bulkier appearance fully kitted out, it struck him how ridiculous it really was that she was a warrior. Her designers had taken the time to ensure she had a figure that was difficult to hide.

"Back home, nice and safe." She moved to test her gear for any serious restrictions to her mobility, finding none. "In the rear with the gear."

"Love you, too."

She pulled him in for a hug, and held him for a long moment before releasing him.

"It'll be fine." She said. "I'll be careful."

"I know, I know." With her help, they began pulling on his own set of protective armor over the dark blue jumpsuit that had become Vanguard standard.

For Alpha squad of Erebus' half of Vanguard, this was something of a sore spot for them. With two human members in the squad, it meant they were two shooters short in long distance missions, but there was no simple way to replace the humans with reploids. By now, they'd become part of the family. People like Ricardo or Charlie team leader Lars Wilder, they'd become irreplaceable for more than just their skills as MSWAT, despite having the 'poor' luck of being born flesh and blood.

The reploids hated leaving behind their human comrades, and the humans dreaded every second of the wait for their friends to come back home. If they'd had better advance notice, they could have taken a physical transport as a whole unit.

Still, Ricardo geared up, treating it every bit as serious as a real deployment for himself, though he could not quiet the memory of what had happened in Russia, where he'd found himself 'dead' with no hope of retaliation. He could not silence the nagging doubt in his mind that he was rapidly growing obsolete in this particular world.

**Mount Hallasan, Jeju-do  
****12:12 PM**

Falcon could see the signs of fighting in the distance, and despite being so far away from the action, his hearing was telling the story well enough. By now, he was certain the other Hunters stationed throughout Seogwipo were likely at or headed to the rendezvous point, before moving on to the mass of smoke that was NAS Gangjeong, and he could feel an almost physical sense of being pulled toward the action. However, something else also had his attention.

The closer he got to Mount Hallasan, much of the 'noise' being broadcast seemed to lessen. Not enough that he could contact anyone, or access the warp network safely, but it was something the sensor packages he'd been installed with for this mission were picking up. It could have been easily explained by the lack of active transmission sources on the mountain, but he couldn't satisfy his curiosity with mere speculation. He decided to descend towards the crater lake, one pass, at speed, before racing towards the combat to support his comrades.

**Alert, Magnetic Anomaly Detected beneath crater lake Baengnokdam, size of mass indeterminate, speed of mass inconsistent with traditional sub-surface warships.**

_Warships,_ Falcon thought grimly.

His own internal database was filled with information on Jeju-do, something he'd done when the orders came down for a team of Hunters to deploy to the island. Interestingly, there had been minor seismic activity in 2120 that had some scientists wondering if the long dormant Mount Hallasan was reawakening. It was a fear worth entertaining, in 2087 Mount Fuji burned out the heart of Japan in an eruption that surprised the world with ferocity that even the best geologists and their surveys failed to predict. Fortunately, the worst case scenario had yet to unfold for Jeju-do. The most that had happened was that the largest crater lake on Hallasan seemed to grow and remain deeper and larger than it historically had averaged.

Instinctively, Falcon readied his buster, his eyes locked onto the sudden churning of the lake surface, something large taking shape just underneath, though still indistinct.

* * *

Vile had not been in proper command of an airship before today, and he was very excited to have given himself the opportunity Sigma had not allowed back during the Good Bad Old Days, when they'd had the _Death Rogumer_ and used it to rain death and despair on unprepared victims throughout New Tokyo. It'd been a real laugh riot, save for the getting embarrassed by Zero on the shattered freeway he'd been punting X all over. The memory of that day made Vile clench his teeth so hard that he felt the beginnings of cracks in his jaw.

_What the hell is with X that people just flock to him like this? He was a goddamned pacifist, not even a real Hunter at first, not a valuable combat resource, just another machine, like me, Sigma, all of us. I don't get it. I don't, I don't, I don't, I don't-_

Secured within a new Ride Armor, a variant of the Goliath he'd so painstakingly crafted and modified for the sole purpose of grinding X to a metallic paste during the Doppler Rebellion, Vile swung one of its massive, clawed hands into a near wall in the launch bay of the ship, named _Crossing the Rubicon._ At once, he felt almost sorry for the big thing, he was already damaging it before it even saw any real combat, gouging out a section of the thickly armored doors, enough to be concerned about the air-tightness of the bay. Not that it would matter for long, what with the ship surfacing, he just couldn't help himself around his urges. Merely thinking about X, his continued survival over the years, the embarrassment suffered at his hands, the hands of his allies, just made him want to hurt something, break something valuable. The _Rubicon_ was not meant to be within this world for long, but Vile imagined that it deserved better, for now. Loaded down with fifty fully autonomous Goliaths, more firepower than the _Death Rogumer_ ever carried, all of it connected to Vile, able to respond to his commands instantly, the _Rubicon_ was a message. To X, his Hunter comrades, the world in general.

They couldn't stop the rampages, the Rebellions, not all of them.

There'd always be more reploids as a whole than there would be Hunters. More potential Mavericks.

The question was not _if_ they could break. It was _when_ they would break.

"Funny thing about Mavericks," Vile said to the armored shell of the Goliath as it clamped down over his head, fully encasing him from the outside world in darkness. "Y'see, we're not all the same. Something I've heard Hunters say about us, we're all the same, they say. Prolly makes 'em feel better about themselves, the ever incorruptible Hunters!" Vile chuckled at that. "So incorruptible, s'what they wanna think, but it ain't true. They can't explain that guy out in the States back in 2120, what was his name, Glacier?" Laughing harder now, Vile attempted to slap a knee, and the Goliath's mimetic control system did its best to mirror the motion, a loud metallic crash and grinding sound echoing through the bay as the ride armor struck itself repeatedly in the chest, not quite able to reach its knees. "Now that guy, he was a real hero, a whole town in ice, even I haven't gotten around to doing something like that! Funny thing is how the Hunters covered it up, they made it sound like it was a glitch, some sort of bug in his works, that's what drove him batty. Humans believed it, everyone believed it, nobody wants to think of the alternative."

"In a way, I gotta thank that Doppler. 'Cuz of him, most folks think it's just some sort of virus that makes us Maverick. Somehow, the idea that a number of us choose to go Maverick, that doesn't work in their world. Hell, they put Repliforce to the sword, kept the circumstances pretty hush-hush. Impressive to watch from off to the side, really." The cockpit suddenly lit up as the various cameras along the hull and 'head' of the ride armor activated, going through their calibration checks. "Can't we just wake up one day and want to give the world the finger?"

The ride armor did not respond, nor did the voice that whispered those three basic commands to him at its own whim, commands he'd heard for years now.

So far, so good.

There was more still to do before he could really get the ball rolling on this.

"There's no real point to any message if people aren't allowed to hear it."

The ship rumbled as it drew closer to the lake surface, and as the bow crested the waters, a sensor display opened up on the main cockpit monitor, showing him something on one of the external cameras. Some_one,_ becoming more distinct and detailed as water drained over the various lenses focusing on the figure.

"Hunter." Vile snarled at the reploid on screen, seeing his prey backpedal in mid-air, raising its buster helplessly as the _Rubicon_ roared out from the water into the air, turrets, missile launchers, all receiving a single command from their controller, zeroing in on the lone avian reploid.

* * *

Falcon knew he was in trouble as soon as the bow of the airship burst through the once calm lake surface, but not the full extent of said trouble until he was able to get a clear look at the shape of vessel. Religion was not something Solar Falcon subscribed to, but he understood why humans and some reploids preferred the comfort of belief in an invisible hand that would guide them, protect them.

Any reploid that gave enough of a damn to join the Hunters was a student of recent history. The resurrected hull lines of the _Death Rogumer_ staring at him, bristling with firepower, was enough to inspire a measure of fear inside the Hunter. His HUD indicated the numerous weapon systems leveling themselves in his direction, helpful ID boxes next to their diamond reticles indicating what they likely were after cross referencing them with databases within his brain. More importantly, he saw that the ship proudly displayed an emblem that had long become synonymous with the Maverick cause, with the Prime Maverick himself.

It wasn't enough to prevent him from acting. Training from days well before his self-imposed exile into Earth's orbit as a mere worker began seeking holes in the firing arcs of all the weapons trained on him, marking them well.

Designed to close with smaller strike craft and destroy them with close range firepower, Falcon was born a monster of air combat, would never be anything but, despite how much he'd tried to be otherwise. Reploids like him had been made to deal with the sort of bad news a carrier of this size could deploy, and after that, home in on their nest, and deal with that as well.

His first instinct, despite a very real sense of fear, was not to run. To run was to admit defeat, to fail as a Hunter, as a combat machine.

He spread his wings, no longer attempting to keep his station in the air, he shifted his weight forward, small verniers all over his body firing, adjusting his course as he brought the pair of jet engines that made up the majority of his back up to full military power, the first time in years, and dove at the airship, a battle cry escaping his stylized beak, the sun at his back.

The HUD was filled with launch indicators, a swarm of two dozen missiles disgorging from ports along the top of the ship, snaking at him low along the hull before popping up at him. The various gun turrets held their peace, though continued to track him.

_The gunners on the ship think they're clever_, Falcon thought. It was a good tactic, the missiles were more meant to get him to fly recklessly, to force him into a place where the ensuing cannon barrages would be too thick for even him to avoid.

He maintained his course, picturing in his mind what would happen if he hit the hull at Mach 3.4 and climbing.

The first of the missiles was about one mile out now, the rest of the pack trailing perhaps only dozens of feet behind it, spreading out much like a net. Less than a second away at these speeds.

His whole frame shook as verniers forced him towards the lake far below, losing hundreds of feet of altitude, eyes locked onto the missiles now, seeking a path through.

They curved at him, the trajectory of the lead missile off by a dozen feet now, just passing him. He rolled, clawed for altitude, cutting through the swarm, feeling the heat of their own engines as he passed them by, the heat of their warheads detonating as their proximity sensors triggered their payloads milliseconds late behind him.

Tracers whipped past him now as the AA guns on the ship opened up, plasmic air bursts of flak filling the sky around the ship. He was coming at the bow from slightly below now, picking out his targets, raising his buster. Falcon's buster opened its focus port in two stages, his whole right arm expanding, reconfiguring itself into the shape of a barrel, his left hand providing stability as he made last second adjustments to his flight path, the weapon emitting a banshee-like wail that drowned out everything around him.

The last time he'd unlocked this particular function for use, he was still a member of the JSDF, he'd never had an opportunity to use it in anger against an enemy. Now, he'd been given good cause to do so. The Maverick airship was undoubtedly headed toward the city, towards his comrades, and the civilians they were charged with protecting.

_Not if I have anything to say about it._

* * *

Vile found himself laughing again, impressed by the guts the Hunter was showing in the face of danger._Former military, I can almost smell it._ Easy to tell, really. The rapid, jerking motions of his eyes as they tracked new threats, how calculated his movements were. He'd have made a hell of a Maverick, which was why it was a shame he had to die. Despite evading the first missile barrage, both Vile and the Hunter knew that the airspace around the _Rubicon_ was a carefully laid out killzone. It was only a matter of time.

The dorsal guns of the ship no longer had a good line of sight on the Hunter, but the heaviest firepower on the _Rubicon_ was mounted ventrally. That much had to be obvious. _Suicide run? He's coming in awful fast-_

The Hunter seemed to glow, in particular, his wings, spread open wide, resembling more the wings of a fixed wing craft than that of any bird he was modeled after. Vile watched as the buster was leveled at the _Rubicon_, which was when Vile realized exactly what sort of threat he was facing now.

_Those aren't just wings, you sonofa-_

* * *

A solid, golden ray of light ripped free from the weapon, almost as wide as Falcon was tall, the sheer force of the shot halting his forward flight in the air, then pushing him backwards, his verniers unable to completely stabilize him, barely able to assist him with guiding the beam shot along the hull of the airship. For three seconds, he was unable to see anything directly ahead of him, despite the best attempts of his eyes to adjust for the light, relying entirely on the HUD to outline his target.

The beam thinned out, fading away with seemingly a whimper, the loud hiss of heated metal meeting metal as his arm and buster collapsed back to their original shape and size. Losing altitude, the sound of cannon fire and rushing air filling his ears, Falcon flapped his wings once, then steered into the dive towards the water, his vision beginning to return. Craning his head around, he took in the damage he'd inflicted on the ship, and would have frowned more if his face allowed it.

He'd burned away a number of turrets, tearing a still glowing scar across the port-side hull of the craft, and perhaps if there'd been two or three of him, they might have breached the hull, hit something really vital, a reactor or two, or perhaps the anti-gravity control system core. It'd been worth a shot to go all out right away, but the results hardly justified for the risk involved.

**Alert! Solar Plasmic Wave Cannon offline, new charge building, estimated time until Mark 17 Buster system is ready for use: Five minutes.**

_Damn damn damn! All that, for a scratch!_

For five minutes, he couldn't even fire basic, low level plasma bursts while the system recovered. For five minutes, all he had left at his disposal were the beam talons on his feet, and raw brute strength, neither of which stood much of a chance against that sort of armor. It'd take longer before he could fire a shot of that strength, and there was no way he could. An awful design flaw to deal with if there ever was one, and Falcon wondered if there was truth to the rumor that the Japanese manufacturers of his type of reploid had deliberately built in such a flaw out of some long standing superstition that combat mecha needed to have some sort of defect.

_But the Mavericks don't know that. Let's see how long it takes for them to call my bluff._

The HUD blared another missile launch warning. If he didn't get closer to his target, he wouldn't be able to use what he had left, and if his luck kept up, he'd be dead before his Solar Cannon was ready to fire once more. He pulled back up, the ship filling his vision as he closed in once more, weaving between threats as best he could, looking for a way on board.

* * *

The on-board AI for the _Rubicon_ was unable to properly identify what had just rocked the ship, but it seemed confident enough to project that it could sustain further attacks of that magnitude. What Vile needed to know was whether or not the Hunter could pull off something like that any time soon. It had been enough to give Vile a moment's pause. He could have very well seen months of planning, years of secretly hoarded resources, all coming to an end in the form of that beam shot.

"Oh, you are good. Not as good as Storm Eagle was, but you've got talent, and a big stick." Vile whistled in praise as the Hunter, now totally defensive, managed to evade another missile swarm, only to be clipped by a burst of plasma fire in one of his wings. He poured on more power to his thrusters to break away from that particular turret' sights, sustaining several more hits across his body before he was clear. Undaunted, the Hunter continued his desperate charge, still intent on closing range with the ship.

"That's all you've got left, isn't it?" Vile frowned. "You had your silver bullet, now you've got nothing. I'm willing to bet those fancy wings of yours you've been trying so hard to protect are solar collectors. Larger than that average reploid's...boosted your plasma buster with that surplus I'll wager. Where'd they pick up a one trick pony like you? They have got to be desperate." Vile tapped out a series of commands on one of the interfaces on board the Goliath.

"Lord Vile, you have terminated the broadcast." _Rubicon_ stated, confusion evident within the voice of the AI.

"Oh yes I did. I want them to come. I wanna talk to this guy. I gotta. I gotta."

* * *

Falcon felt confusion and relief when the incoming fire abruptly stopped when it did, giving him a chance to give his systems a needed reprieve. The airship's main engines flaring up to full power as it picked up speed, its course clearly aimed towards Seogwipo now. More surprising was the sudden halt to the electronic interference that had blanketed Jeju-do before. A sudden rush of information from the island fell upon his mind, outlining the bad news: The Maverick Hunters were currently engaged with rogue military mechaniloids at NAS Gangjeong, the Net compromised with a virus that had vanished as quickly as it had appeared.

The stop to the jamming confused Falcon. The Mavericks had given themselves the opportunity to blast a particularly large hole in one of the more important defensive networks in Asia, and do it without allowing the Hunters the opportunity to bring in heavier reinforcements. Until now. They'd just cost themselves the element of surprise. Already he was transmitting everything he could from his data pods to every Hunter on Jeju-do, to the people back at HQ, who were doubtlessly wondering what it was that had taken the whole island off the Network.

"_Hey Hunter!" _Vile's voice boomed over a series of loudspeakers positioned all over the vessel. _"You must be new, I can't seem to find your data on any of the security nets I've got access to. What are you, fresh off the farm?"_

The realization of whom he was dealing with challenged Falcon's self control. The Hunters had yet to properly identify the Mavericks who'd attacked HQ, but there was no question about who'd lead the massacre in New Tokyo. Sitting safe and sound within meters of armored plating, surrounded by enough firepower to threaten the whole island, right in front of Falcon, there lay the bastard himself.

And there was damned little Falcon could do about him. For now.

"_No remarks? No name? Rank? Anything? Come on, gimme something."_ The Maverick snickered. _"You ain't gonna be giving out any more of those Saturday Night Specials of yours any time soon, I can guarantee that."_

_Well then, bluff called a lot sooner than I hoped for, _Falcon thought. Ignoring the taunts, he opened a direct line to HQ.

"_If you ain't talkin', then I'll stop talkin' too, and go back ta shootin' you full of holes! Kisses from heaven, little bird!"_

From the six Vertical Launch Systems he'd been able to pick out on the ship, over a hundred micro-missiles burst from their racks, twisting through the sky in serpentine fashion towards him. In response, he cut the maneuvering restrictions of his systems, and went ballistic. On the lower right corner of his HUD blinked the most important numbers in the world to him at that moment:

**Weapon System Recovery Estimate: 03:23. Time until data transmission complete: 0:15**

"HQ, this is Solar Falcon. Have met with enemy over Mount Hallasan. It's Vile. Mavericks are based within the-"

* * *

"You're no fun at all!" Vile said, almost pouting, watching the Hunter scramble for his life on his displays.

"Lord Vile-"

"Say that again, _Rubicon._"

"Lord Vile." The AI paused, noting that Vile, within his ride armor, seemed to relax as the title was recited. "I have detected data transmissions from the Maverick Hunter. Shall I put them on the monitor?"

"Leave it be, Ruby. It's all part of the plan. I already have a pretty good idea what's being said."

"My own analysis estimates Hunter reinforcements within the hour, Lord Vile. I could scramble communications once more-"

"Bring 'em on." He waved dismissively. "Set a course for Gangjeong. We'll commence the combat drop over the city, also as planned." He sounded distracted, almost transfixed by the effort put out by the Hunter to survive. He was almost disappointed to see the missiles finally close in, a mass of explosions filling the air where he'd been, a bright flash. His body fell lifelessly to the waters below.

"I have lost contact with hostile," _Rubicon_ reported. "No additional threats detected."

**MHHQ**

Things were starting to feel out of control, a state Signas had hoped to avoid. He'd called all of his Commanders to the command center, and ordered the bulk of his forces to remain on standby to deploy to the crisis zone if necessary, if he was allowed to even make that call. Another decision he immediately regretted having to do, a lengthy standby would only fray nerves even further. He needed them all prepared however. If this was a serious resurgence by Sigma's forces, or if it was the military Mavericks, he wanted to crush either possibility decisively.

Of course, the ability to do so, while well within the capabilities of the Hunters and Vanguard, were waiting for the permission of the Korean government to be allowed to save its citizens with the long overdue haste and force that should have been allowed in the first place.

"Commander Signas!" Beryl cried out excitedly. "We've restablished network connections with Jeju-do! Receiving a data transmission from Solar Falcon."

"On the main screen." Signas ordered, placing a GDC representative on hold, much to their chagrin.

What they saw had been transmitted from Falcon's eyes, difficult to follow for those unfamiliar with air combat. The reploid had engaged in some complex maneuvers during the recording, occasionally contrails from missiles and tracers from cannon fire visible as the earth and the sky spiraled in the view. His voice came through the speakers, sounding strained.

"HQ, this is Solar Falcon. Have met with enemy over Mount Hallasan. It's Vile. Mavericks are based within the-"

The sound cut out as the world was blanketed with flames, followed by static. The name Falcon uttered was enough to send a ripple of gasps throughout the room.

"Is there anything more?" Signas asked.

"Everything else is in the data transmission, it'll take time to sift through everything." Beryl shook her head sadly. "I can't...I can't raise him on the Net."

"He wanted us to see this, in particular." Signas frowned. "Reverse, and hold at thirteen, enhance."

Frozen in time, a dark blur recorded amidst the combat became more and more defined, until finally, the inverted shape of what appeared to be a reconstructed _Death Rogumer,_ there for all in the control room to see.

"I need immediate contact with all the Hunters on Jeju-do. Work as quickly as you can, Beryl, use my security override if necessary."

On the main display, a comms request from New York MHHQ blinked at Signas. He ignored it, for now.

**Naval Air Station Gangjeong  
****12:18 PM**

Major-General Bae Myung was familiar with combat, having served on several GDC peacekeeping missions in Africa throughout the 2020's before his promotion to Major-General. His first real taste of war had come in 2119, a younger officer leading soldiers for the first time against Maverick hold outs on Cornus Island, and from there his career had rocketed him towards the top. He wore scars of some sort from almost every combat op he'd ever participated in, the result of his unwillingness to simply delegate and watch from afar, when it came to his people, humans at any rate. He did not like the idea of combat reploids on the island his command was assigned to defend, and hoped their presence would not trigger anything serious. When the first blasts rocked his base, he cursed himself for having held onto such a naive hope in the first place.

He knew he was relatively safe within the command bunker beneath the ATC tower, but it meant that his own information about what exactly was happening was very limited. According to the two aides escorting him to the control room, the whole base was under some sort of aerial assault. Reports that mechaniloids were going berserk and opening fire on friendly forces could not be confirmed, as the entire communications net was down, and most external surveillance systems had also been compromised. The bunker itself had not been breached, but considering the near constant shaking all around him, he was expecting it any moment.

And then, as quickly as the jamming had begun, it had stopped, as though the enemy knew decisive damage had been done. The Korean regulars were fighting as best they could, but those opening minutes without the Network has all but decided the course of the battle.

"They're going to want someone to take responsibility for this," Myung said, more to himself than to his aide. "They will say we didn't do enough to prevent this. There is never enough."

A soldier standing guard stoically at the entrance saluted him as he marched into the control center. The base commander, a colonel, was already there, along with a dozen technicians already at their stations, trying to re-establish communications after the jamming subsided. With the base infrastructure having sustained so much damage, it was slow going at best.

"How bad is it?" Those who served with Myung for any length of time knew that the man dispensed with any formalities during times of crisis, finding them obstructive at best. No amount of 'sirs' would fix anything except an ego or two, and this was not the time to worry about one of those.

"The attack started from inside the Mechaniloid storage bays," the colonel began. "Every single Mitsubatchi ripped out of their restraints, or at least tried to. Security forces have downed a number of the Maverick units, but from what little we've been able to discern, we're being overwhelmed. The only good news is that we were ninety percent complete with the strip down of their optional armaments, but that still leaves them with their standard integrated weapon systems."

_Convenient we have Maverick Hunters on the island right now_, Myung thought. "Have we been able to establish any form of contact with the mainland? With any friendly GDC forces? The Hunters?"

"Nothing we can confirm at this time-" The command center rocked again, with greater force than anything Myung had felt on the way there. He could even smell the faint scent of burned out electronics in the air as the lights flickered. "Sir, I highly recommend you make arrangements to get off of this base. I don't need a fully operational network to know we're losing this battle."

The Major-General was about to sharply object when one of techs practically ran up to the officers, nearly breathless. "Sirs! Partial communication from the surface! One of the Maverick Hunters has engaged the enemy!"

* * *

Zero was no stranger to the capabilities of a fully loaded Mitsubatchi. He remembered quite clearly dealing with them on the elevated freeways of New Tokyo on December 7th, and many years before that, the earliest variants of the machines on June 4th, 2118. Whatever their original purpose had been in the world, he would never quite see them as anything other than one of the iconic symbols of Maverick terror. As he approached NAS Gangjeong, he could feel his whole body tense in anticipation for the same horrors of his previous encounters with the machines, while feeling some sense of relief that he could see the human victims this time had not been entirely defenseless, fighting back with what weapons they could gather and operate. These units were nowhere nearly as coordinated as those he'd fought in New Tokyo, but their sheer numbers were enough to make up for that deficiency.

His own arrival had been met with the stares of shock and admiration as he blazed past the embattled human forces, dash thrusters alight. Machine or not, Zero was an icon, a real life hero in a world that had begun to doubt they could truly exist once the Maverick Uprisings had begun in earnest. Simply being there was enough to elicit cheers from the embattled Koreans.

_Let's give 'em a real show._

Impressively enough, whatever it was that had afflicted the mechaniloids had not done away with their self preservation protocols within their AI. They rarely ventured below a thousand feet, avoided staying in one place, unless they needed to ensure their cannon fire would rain accurately on hostile positions below. There weren't enough AA guns on the base to fight off so many targets effectively, and the rogue signal Zero had blocked out had made ineffective the sub-surface SAM sites that ran along the base perimeter.

He brought up his warp menu.

**Caution! Warp Network currently unavailable!**

_Override safety protocols, initiate manual targeting._

He'd had his eye on one of the units the moment he'd broken through the base perimeter, it was straying lower than the others, taking risks the others weren't. It swiveled to face him, recognizing the threat he presented, more than a dozen fellow machines marking him as soon as he'd come into range, designating this particular Blader as the closest to deal with him. To Zero, the world slowed to a crawl, and even at the distance he was from the Bee Blader, he could easily make out all six barrels of its chin mounted gun, beginning to spin up, ready to engage the Hunter. The plasma cannon mounted on the 'abdomen' of the craft curled forward, green energies beginning to roil and burn at the tip of the emitter.

Zero vanished in a bolt of red light.

* * *

The Mitsubatchi seemed to pause in mid air, seemingly confused by the disappearance of the target. It switched to thermal scanning, only finding traces of where Zero had been, where his dash thrusters had left a trail of hot spots on the concrete leading to where his form simply scattered in every direction at once, a rapidly fading cloud that was warmer than the surrounding atmosphere. Other Mitsubatchi sent their own images of the surrounding area to this unit, all concurring that for all intents and purposes, the Hunter had never been there in the first place.

Its proximity sensors suddenly went berserk a less than a second after Zero had vanished, indicators on the mechaniloid's HUD saying that something had just landed on the back of the unit. This was followed by a hull breech alert, the Blader lurching violently to the left as one of the ammunition reservoirs for the chain cannon cooked off, the craft suddenly losing complete control, spinning wildly, diving towards the earth below. It's own dorsal cameras were gone, and so it could not determine what the cause of the catastrophic damage it had sustained on its own. Another unit that wasn't occupied with ground targets transmitted a helpful video feed, revealing that the Hunter it had seen moments before was now tearing a plasma saber through its fuselage, leaping away towards the other Blader providing the video.

Then it crashed heavily into the ground, and could perceive nothing more.

* * *

**Warp Generator offline, estimated cooldown, two minutes sixteen seconds.**

_That's one,_ Zero thought, as he closed in on a new target, aiming to bury his beam saber directly in the 'eyes' of the mechaniloid. He landed on this Mitsubatchi with such force he practically caved in its 'head', beam saber plunging deep into what he assumed was the 'brain' of the craft, feeling it stagger in mid-air. Vaulting himself up onto the back of the machine, he sprinted along its length, dragging the saber through its hull effortlessly, a battle cry escaping his lips, feeling the long familiar battle-lust enveloping him once more.

_Two down._

Already he was tracking a third target, seeing it come from his right on the extreme periphery of his vision, more importantly he could hear its chain gun already firing, ripping into its stricken comrade, debris flying all around the Hunter. Launching himself off his second victim like a rocket, he watched as the third Blader pulled itself away rapidly, trying to compensate it its aim so that Zero would fly through a curtain of bullets.

Modern Mitsubatchi used a combination of traditional thrust vectoring, combined with six 'spokes' underneath the units that were often mistaken for legs. They were the anti-gravity field generators, and when their fields oscillated properly, they helped artificially reduce the operational weight of a Blader to a mere thirty percent of normal. By shifting the field emitters, a modern Blader could perform sudden evasion tactics that the old rotor-driven models would have dreamed of, if dreaming was within their list of capabilities. Sudden stops, wild changes in altitude, dangerous evasive techniques while still keeping the majority of its arsenal pointed directly at hostiles. More than ever, they could mimic the insect from which they derived their name.

Despite all that, it wasn't nearly good enough. Zero Omega, built nearly half a century before the machine he bore down upon now, was more than it could ever hope to handle alone.

Zero brought Sigma's saber down into its forehead with both hands, then climbed onto its back, replacing the saber onto a charging sheathe. He formed both hands into busters, taking note of his system's protests of the strain he was placing on himself. With his right 'hand' he punched into the 'thorax' of craft, and released his first charged plasma bolt, the cerulean plasma spike eating its way through reinforced armor and vital componentry with equal ease, burying itself into the ground far below. The machine was literally coming apart at his feet as he leapt free of it, aiming for what remained of the air traffic control tower. Reverting his left buster back into a proper hand, fingers digging into the reinforced concrete walls of the tower, slowing his descent while he took the time to scout for more victims.

It'd taken him maybe fifteen seconds to kill three Mitsubatchi.

Under normal circumstances, this would have been impressive. The number that remained in the air kept him somewhat humble.

The Bladers were obviously very aware of the sort of danger Zero presented. He watched as a good number of them turned their attention away from the disorganized human resistance, fanning out before him and he assumed behind him. With his own sensors jammed, he was having to rely on his ability to see and hear in order to place targets on his internal map, but he could see a rudimentary tactical intelligence to their movements, staying outside of his known jumping distance.

He was far from helpless, firing his second charged buster at another machine almost dismissively, nailing it dead center in the head before it could react, watching it fall out of the sky half slagged and trailing flames.

_Four._

The counter-fire from the other craft was vicious, but seconds late as he pulled himself free from the wall, tumbling forward and pushing himself towards the ground, cannon and plasma fire ripping apart the tower just behind him. Just before his hit the surface, he burst away, parallel to the ground, firing off another plasma bolt, noting that this time it had missed his target by a healthy margin.

_They're adapting._

The tower exploded behind him, debris raining around him as he moved, his diagnostics display screaming various warnings of strain being placed on his legs as they pumped against the ground, sprinting as fast as he could manage. All he cared about was the countdown on his warp generator.

In front of him, he saw another mechaniloid swoop in low, scraping the tarmac as it did and firing the whole time. The first shots passed so close he could feel their heat against the synthflesh of his face as he twisted his whole body to the right, momentarily losing balance. Another burst from his dash system sent him streaking out of the line of fire at an odd angle, into what was left of a hangar. Just before losing sight of the Blader, he fired quick burst of plasma fire, scoring a few hits, but no vitals. It did get the mechaniloid to break contact.

Zero rolled hard several times before righting himself, charging straight at the nearest intact wall, gathering another plasma charge. Above the hangar, he could hear more Bladers swooping overhead, likely tracking him via thermal vision.

Gripping one of his Rakuhouha plasmic charges he kept at his waist, he made a mental note how many he had left. Then he fired a charged buster shot at the wall just as he reached it.

The blast carved open a path for Zero through the hangar wall, catching an unlucky Blader as it dove down to try and intercept the Hunter, just along its belly, ripping the craft wide open and lighting off its fuel and ammunition stores simultaneously. Tracers from its chain-gun spewed in every direction as the ruined machine collapsed in a burning, twisted heap less than thirty feet ahead of him. To his left and right were two more Bladers, already swiveling to avoid hitting eachother with friendly fire, locking Zero firmly in their sights.

Leaping over the wreckage in front of him, he spun in mid-air, throwing the Rakuhouha like a fastball at one of the Bladers, bringing up his buster and firing wildly at the charge.

The effect was immediate and impressive, raw plasma pouring out of the center of the ensuing detonation in waves, engulfing both craft and the rest of the wall he'd blasted through.

_Five, six, seven..._

Number eight was distinctly different from the others he'd taken out thus far, having a pair of optional anti-tank missile pods still mounted on its ventral mounts. The techs at Gangjeong had likely been interrupted when the signal broadcast started the Maverick rampage.

It took up a firing position just over eight hundred feet above and in front of Zero as he came back down from his leap, breaking back into a sprint the moment his feet touched the ground.

Essentially point blank for a missile launch.

A pair of bright flashes from the pods caught his attention, less than a second delay between each shot, contrails arcing towards him, almost in line with one another.

Zero reached back for the beam saber, studying the lead missile with a sort of grim curiosity as it bored in. He could make out the targeting camera at the tip of the warhead, see the the fin stabilizers adjust themselves to better guide the weapon towards him. Anti-tank missiles of this kind did not detonate via a proximity trigger. If he allowed them to, they would try to spear him, detonating milliseconds later, assuming his body was the armored plating to a ride armor or tank. His body was made of stern stuff, but not nearly enough to resist that sort of firepower.

It almost surprised Zero how little he cared that he was staring death in the face as he brought the beam saber down in a vertical arc.

The first missile was split neatly down the center, halves passing him on either side-

He spun to the right, lashing out at the second warhead, watched the green blade burn through the projectile a foot behind the tip, kept spinning, bringing his buster to bear on the Mitsubatchi, fully charged and singing its high pitched whine once more, and wondered if the mechaniloid could feel surprise.

_Eight._

And despite himself, Zero felt a twisted grin spread across his face.

He was enjoying this.

He knew why he was here, he know the gravity of the situation. In the back of his mind, he knew how badly stacked against him the odds were. If NAS Gangjeong fell, it would be a serious blow to the Korean military. Tensions between Russia and China would only increase, with the Chinese likely deploying more its own forces to the shared border in an effort to make up for the lack of support the Koreans could not provide with Gangjeong's forces decimated. Russia would likely respond in kind. He knew all of this, understood the consequences of the action here today, but at the forefront of his mind, he enjoyed watching the mechaniloid fly apart as the charged plasma shot chewed through it.

He was enjoying crushing his enemy without pity, imagining the emotionless Mitsubatchi screaming in fear, begging for mercy.

He almost hoped his allies arrived late, to leave more targets for him.

This part of Zero,The Demon, long suppressed, had arrived in Gangjeong as its savior.

**Seogwipo  
****12:23**

Erebus and Kindle had started making their way back towards the naval base as soon as they'd seen the fighting begin, their imposing size and speed enough to clear the walk ways enough for them to pass through. There was a great deal of confusion among the civilians they passed, more than a fair share of terror displayed as the two reploids went on their way. Combat machine like them were something often relegated to the news reels from somewhere else in the world. Their presence, combined with the distant thunder of combat being waged at the military base, was enough to unsettle most of the Koreans the pair wove their way past.

"Captain, shouldn't we meet up with the others at the designated rendezvous point?" Originally, they'd been headed in that direction, where two Hunter sharp shooters had been posted to provide general overwatch of as much of Seogwipo as ground units could manage short of being posted on an aerial platform of some sort. When the sounds of fighting had started, the Captain abruptly changed their course to the direction of the combat.

"Don't you think it's odd that it came and went as quickly as it did?" Erebus snapped. "You don't really think the Hunters are going to wait around while we all get together for our pow-wow? I planned for this type of scenario, 'swhy we're in pairs like this. I'm almost certain the Hunters will be moving in on Gangjeong to try and pin down our Mavericks there, assuming we've got actual Mavericks and not just mechaniloid decoys." Enough space opened up before The Captain, and his dash thrusters flared twice as he leaned forward into the air, traveling less than an inch off the ground at almost a hundred miles an hour. The thrusters lit up once more as he pushed off the ground hard, headed for a low rooftop. Kindle matched him move for move, barely. They came to an abrupt stop at the edge of the low building, trying to get a better feel for the sort of party they wanted to crash.

"I think one of us is already there." Kindle observed, pointing towards a particular blue streak of flame, almost indistinct among the smoke, flame, and weapons fire in the distance. It zipped about, exchanging what appeared to be heavy plasma fire with a number of mechaniloids, dancing between return fire barrages. They were miles away, but they still had access to their own devices for visual magnification, and both reploids swore they saw something crimson leading the azure flames-

"That's Zero." The Captain said, bolting from the rooftop towards another, Kindle remaining close by. He instinctively formed a buster out of his right hand, already marking a number of the now identified as Bee Bladers who were straying away from Gangjeong, seemingly preparing to turn their guns onto the outskirts of Seogwipo. They were still quite some distance and time away from being able to lend a hand, but he was anxious to get in the fight.

Kindle shared his Captain's enthusiasm, but not without some rerservation. He actually was surprised with the amount of aggression he was seeing within Erebus, wondering if somehow they'd traded places during the warp to Jeju-do. " The warp net'll be back up soonish, I bet. Shouldn't we wait for some back up?"

"We ARE the back up, Kindle." Erebus said, the statement punctuated by their twin landing on the next rooftop. He was gone in another flash of dash thruster flame, headed back down towards street level. Kindle found himself struggling with the idea it was possible that he, a feraloid built for speed and strength, was struggling to keep up with another reploid who for all appearances wasn't.

* * *

Adam and Bernard had shed their civilian guise the moment their connection to the various nets they frequently accessed had been cut off by their self-defense programs, running as fast as their bodies allowed without wholly disrupting the near-perfect invisibility their therm-optical cloaks granted them. It meant they could not travel via rooftop, and it meant that they had to be at the absolute peak of their game when it came to maneuvering their bodies through human and reploid foot traffic, but this was a game they'd played before, and like the rest of their Maverick kin, they were exceptionally skilled at it. What was more of a concern to them now was the sudden clearing of the airwaves, at least according to their own sensors. Despite the supposed safety, the two had gone 'dark', in the event this was some way to convince them to lower their defenses.

Before the attack had begun, Nike had confirmed the existence of additional hostiles they had to be concerned with, but they hadn't had the time to pinpoint all of them before things got moving. The situation was not ideal, and they had to assume the enemy was also on the move. Their advantage was that they still commanded the element of surprise, they still determined where and when they could strike from. Even Vile, who likely had pieced together that his working relationship with The Few had ended, would not be able to predict exactly where and when he'd be attacked. The two assassins had the advantage, and they intended to exploit it.

_Adam, eleven o'clock, rooftops! You see that?_

It was enough of a shock to almost cause Adam to bowl over an older woman. Last second shifting of his full body weight allowed him to dance just around the human, his barely visible left hand steadying her before she could lose her own balance for the briefest of moments. The pair ducked into a nearby alley to confirm whom they'd seen, as well as to calm themselves.

Bernard dropped his stealth cloak first, allowing the system a chance to recharge. "What the hell is _he_ doing here? We last saw him back in-" He shook his head, almost unwilling to believe he'd seen that particular reploid.

"Los Angeles." Adam finished for his friend. He winced, as though in physical pain from the ideas rushing through his mind. "Well, here he is. Complicates things. He's obviously working with the Hunters, some sort of joint op." Adam cocked his head, hearing something of interest. "Troop transports, they sound heavy, I can hear them telling civilian traffic to clear out of their way. We'll use them to get to the base while evading potential detection."

"Four's headed that way too." Bernard said quietly. "Of all the people to compromise us, damnit!"

"We don't know that he has," Adam snapped.

"We don't know that he hasn't!"

There really was no other explanation for him to be there. Despite efforts to avoid any tactics that could be traced back to them, Four was the sort of observer who could pick up on even the slightest of clues. It would have been a fatal miscalculation to think that the Hunters would be unable to piece together the little evidence there was about the existence of The Few with the attacks on their headquarters, particularly with Four still alive and well in the world. He was the only reploid to have served with the 2nd RSF and later choose to leave the program before the stirrings of rebellion had firmly taken hold within the unit. He'd been regarded as an excellent leader in the field, and as a grave loss when he'd left the military life behind. He'd had good reasons to do so. If he'd remained in the unit, he could have stopped Apollo's Rebellion before it ever began.

And yet he hadn't.

The idea that they could potentially face him again in combat unnerved the two Mavericks. Memories flooded their minds, of service in Africa at his side, being the heroes the innocent needed, heroes the world showed the utmost reluctance to provide. They could remember with perfect clarity seeing Four leading Hunters and MSWAT in a desperate charge to free hostages they still believed the 2nd RSF held at some dusty backlot theme park in Los Angeles. What had motivated him to act then? What else brought him to Jeju-do, if not specifically to thwart them here and now?

He was still a former commanding officer. Still a friend, even if he didn't see that himself. This was something that could not be erased from their minds without effort they were unwilling to expend.

_What do we do?_ Adam asked to himself. _What does Nike want us to do about him?_

They stood in silence for a full minute, their eyes watching for signs that civilians had spotted them in the darkened and cramped alley.

"Will you order me to engage him?" Bernard asked.

"Not if I can help it," Adam smiled thinly. "I'd like it if we could pretend we never saw him." He pointed at their suitcases. "I'm putting 'er together, cover me."

"Fair enough."

They'd only brought over one magrifle for the job in their paired suitcases, easier to conceal while they waited for the targets to make their appearances. It would be more than enough. Adam popped open both cases, rapidly assembling the weapon while Bernard kept up security, ensuring no curious civilian or Hunter stumbled upon them. Within a half-minute, the rifle was assembled, loaded, round chambered. No scope was attached, the highly reflective surfaces of the lenses tended to give away positions, even through their shrouds.

Their therm-optics made barely audible hisses as they became ghosts once more, knifing through the sidewalk filled with panicked humans, making their way towards the transports going down the center of the road. Their agreement gave them small comfort, in the face of the job lying ahead.

* * *

Other Hunters and Vanguard members had also seen the battle unfolding. Guernica and Lao, stationed at the rendezvous for overwatch, quickly agreed that waiting around in an orderly fashion was not an option. Hastily, they left a brief message on the roof of the designated building in the form of a repeating message capsule that could only be accessed by other Hunters or Vanguard reploids, telling everyone to immediately race towards the beleaguered base, that human forces, that their commander, were all waiting for help.

Most of the reploid pairs would never see the message, all eager to help out as quickly as possible, assuming everyone else was probably on the way.

The Hunter snipers had chosen to avoid engaging targets over Gangjeongg at the maximum range of their mag-rifles. While they could have easily hit their targets from well outside of the base perimeter, for some reason the rampaging mechaniloids were focused on the military facilities, and the sharpshooters wanted to try and keep it that way. It was likely that if the Bladers detected threats within the city, they would find reason to be as indiscriminate to the civilian populace as they were being with military targets. Gangjeongg' surface was quickly becoming a gnarled ruin of smoke, flame, and rubble, with most standing structures damaged to some extent, if not outright destroyed. From their position next to a gate guard house at the northern base entrance, they could pick out hundreds of craters across the whole base of varying size, some caused by ordinance, others by fallen Bladers. The counter fire from the Koreans had slackened to the point where it was no longer even marginally effective, and Zero was nowhere to be found in the chaos, as far as they were able to tell from the base perimeter.

"Guer, I'm getting a priority Autistic Mode override and standby request." Lao's eyes widened. "Confirming. It's HQ, the network flood must have ended or have been circumvented!"

Opening a line to HQ, Guernica smiled as Beryl's face appeared on his internal comms display, dropping into his long practiced southern accent. "Well, 'llo there sunshine. Missed us?"

"_Not the time, Guernica."_ She blushed. _"Thank God you're- you've all managed to remain safe. Zero's not responding to my communications but-"_ A hand rested on her shoulder, and she jumped in her seat, turning her head and following the arm it was attatched to up to its owner. _"C-Commander Signas will begin briefing you all."_

"_To all Hunters and Vanguard members on Jeju-do receiving this," _Signas began,_"I will keep this brief. Solar Falcon has confirmed a significant Maverick presence on Jeju-do originating from Mount Hallasan. The Mavericks are apparently in possession of a reconstructed _Death Rogumer_, Vile's presence on the ship has also been confirmed. The attack on Gangjeong in all likelihood was a feint, intended to draw you away from the civilian populace in the city. The Korean government has allowed the deployment of the 58th Unit into Seogwipo to account for the airship, with further reinforcements as they deem necessary, once the warp network is confirmed safe for use. I want Zero's team and Vanguard to concentrate on securing Gangjeong before reinforcing them. You have your orders. Godspeed, and good hunting."_

"Well, that _was_ short." Lao grunted. "Shall we ventilate some mechaniloids, good sir?" He hefted his rifle into a ready position.

"I'll be nice, and give you the first shot."

Lao shifted his weapon about, adjusting his aim on a Mitsubatchi, finger squeezing on the trigger...and then pulled his head away from the weapon, sighing. "The good commander just stole my kill."

"Huh, how 'bout that." Guernica whistled. "Don't even know why we were ever worried about him."

_**Crossing the Rubicon  
**_**Seogwipo airspace**

The ship had been pouring on the coal ever since its short-lived battle with a lone Maverick Hunter had come to a decisive end, maintaining what counted for it as Nap-of-the-Earth flying, not to evade detection, but to intimidate, to frighten. Much of Mount Hallasan's lower altitude regions had been built over to accommodate the population explosion of the late 2090's, and the sight of the _Rubicon_ as it broke through the clouds surrounding the peak could not be missed even if one tried to ignore it. As soon as 'targets' had become available, her weapons came back to life, an indiscriminate bombardment that was being transmitted live around the world by local news media, by those fortunate enough to have cameras and to not be in the way of the oncoming carrier.

There was no mistaking the insignia proudly emblazoned on the ship.

From inside his Goliath, Vile watched the various news feeds, in dozens of different languages, all saying more or less the same thing, but still amusing to him. Statements were being made, specialists, analysts were dissecting the precious little information they had. Politicians throughout the GDC and the non-aligned nations of the world made their politically correct statements, careful to avoid laying blame on reploids as a whole, citing that Maverick Terror was an unfortunate fact of life in today's world, and that the forces out to stop such things were already dealing calculated blows against the enemy.

For the moment, even the seemingly inevitable conflict between Russia and China had taken a back seat.

It was, to Vile, one of the greatest experiences he could have. He was the literal eye of the storm, had the whole world by the throat, forcing it to watch him change the rules of the game.

Because he could.

"Ruby, open the hangar doors, and activate the autonomous systems on the other machines."

"Lord Vile, we've yet to reach the planned drop zone. This will affect your ability to tactically distribute your firepower-"

"Don't care don't care don't care," Vile snarled as the main doors opened, giving him a view of the city below, at this height he could make out stopped traffic and crowds of fleeing civilians, and made sure the heavier ordinance on the _Rubicon_ found its way to those 'trouble spots'. As much as he was enjoying all of this, streaks of light from the sky had his undivided attention. He remembered when was once a part of a light show like that. Now, they were coming for him, and his body shuddered with excitement.

"Lord Vile, I have confirmed the 58th Maverick Hunter Unit has been deployed to Jeju-do-"

"And here come the big damn heroes." Vile sang. "Fewer than I would have liked, and not the 17th, that's a real let down. I'm dropping in now, do not fire on them. Concentrate on anything else but them, maintain your course to Gangjeong at any cost. I want these ones myself."

"Yes, Lord Vile."

"Come on, come on, you worthless piles of scrap," he shouted as he and the rest of his supporting Ride Armors flung themselves off the _Rubicon_ in groups of five. "Show some Hell to me!"

**MHHQ New Tokyo**

"Ignoring my calls, Signas?"

"Commander X. I apologize for the delay in answering you." Signas looked as frustrated as he felt, a rare sight indeed. It was unlike him to show signs of strain. He almost welcomed X's face on the monitor after the string of human bureaucrats he'd had to smooth things over with, but dreaded the coming argument. "The roadblocks placed before us makes our work more difficult to accomplish."

"Understandable sir. I've been following the news." He grinned wryly. "Sigma doesn't seem to believe in subtlety any more."

"As have I." Signas hesitated before continuing. "We're responding to the cause as we speak. Vile's been confirmed by a Hunter attached to Zero's unit."

"And he's got much heavier support than we could have expected, with that carrier." X nodded. "I will deploy the 17th and the 21st units immediately in support-" X stood from his seat, as though he were prepared to warp straight away to Jeju-do.

"You will do no such thing, commander." Signas interrupted. "Until we receive permission from the Korean government and the GDC, we are not allowed to deploy more Hunters to the combat zone."

The shocked expression on X's face might have passed as amusing to some if the circumstances were not so grave.

"What?" he managed to ask.

"For all intents and purposes, you are the regional commander of all Maverick Hunters of the Eastern United States. Your jurisdiction does not extend beyond that. If we were even allowed to make use your assistance, we would ask for it."

"What the hell are you even saying?" X was shouting now. "Jurisdiction? When has that ever mattered? People are dying-"

"It always has." Signas rumbled. "I assure you, I am well aware that people are dying. We lost contact with the scout who discovered Vile's involvement. I'm watching as the city is being bombarded by that carrier in real time. In the time I spent 'ignoring' you, I've been convincing the Korean Ministry of Defense to allow me the additional deployment of the 58th Unit. That they even acquiesced is something close to a miracle. The Japanese government is questioning our every move, questioning the 'dangers' of allowing an entire Hunter unit to deploy outside of the mainland. The GDC is demanding updates every ten minutes on the situation. The media hounds us for a statement on the 'Battle for Jeju-do'. And now I have you, trying to overstep your authority and mine, to play the hero you _think_ the world expects you to be. Do you doubt the ability of a hand picked team lead by Zero, and that of Cirrus Tyber's Wild Cards? Is Vile such an opponent that only you can deal with him?"

X's expression hardened. "You know _very_ little about me if you think this is about Vile-"

"Do not presume to question _my_ grasp of the situation!" Signas snapped. "I have been monitoring the same networks as you, and some you do not have anywhere near the security clearance necessary to access. I know what is at stake. We are all doing the best we can with resources we are being allowed to use. I can demand and expect no less of my people!"

"You're doing the best you can with what politicians are letting you work with." X nodded. "I know we can do even more, and so do you. You just need to give us the word. You did once before, you told them all to go to hell. What changed, Signas?"

"Commander X, I have my orders, and you have yours." Signas almost whispered. "We are not expected to like the orders we receive, but we are expected to follow them. The decision is ultimately not mine or yours to make."

"It should be. We are better than this, Signas." X pleaded. "The Maverick Hunters exist to protect people. We're above race, gender, religion. We're above the politics."

"Not any more it seems." Signas replied. "But we should be."

"We agree on that." X severed the connection.

Signas sank deeper into his seat, massaging his temples, hoping to ease the tension he felt.

He noticed that all eyes in the command center were upon him now. There was a mixture of respect, sympathy, and even disgust within them, and he felt more of the latter towards himself now.

"Carry on. The 58th is in theater now, and will need our tactical support."

He opened a channel to the Korean Ministry of Defense for the third time that day. Within minutes, the discussion regarding Signas' 'troubling requests' had turned into an open shouting match.

**Seogwipo, Jeju-do  
****12:35 PM**

Cirrus Tyber had requested his unit to be warped into the city in the direct path of the carrier. It was clearly headed for the military installation, and he wanted to see if there was a way to remove it from the equation as early as possible. Everyone in Zero's element were engaged by the enemy to some degree, making communications with them sparse at best. It meant that if the carrier did get to Gangjeong, they were likely going to be in even greater danger.

Making things easier for them was the low altitude of the carrier. For some of his more agile teammates, they could easily make the jump from a building to it, assuming they didn't get knocked out of action by the numerous weapons lining its hull. Still, considering how fast it was moving, they had minutes at best to prepare an ambush the enemy already knew was coming.

"Talk to me, Beryl." Tyber had set up a loose defensive cordon based around an intersection the carrier would pass over, having made his team warp in directly to the positions he'd assigned via satellite imagery studied just prior to deployment.

"_Bad news, Tyber. Looks like the carrier just unloaded its cargo. Ride Armors, can't get an accurate count on them, say about twenty plus. They're pulling ahead of the ship now, through the city streets, right at you."_

_Through the city streets, meaning through the people down there. _ There was no way to miss the trail of destruction headed towards his unit."Called us out, has he? You heard the lady, Five Eight. Diamond, Spade, I need you to stay up high. As soon as you get a chance, try to make your way on board that thing and direct it away from the city, by any means you see fit. The rest of you, get ground-side, assist local law enforcement in getting people as far away from this intersection as possible if you can." His own set of wings spread open, as though to punctuate his orders. "This intersection is now _our_ intersection. They want to break though so badly, they'll have to do it in pieces."

He barely heard the acknowledgment of his team, his mind elsewhere.

Tyber was like most Hunters, he was more than equipped to give a stand up fight. The reason he'd earned a command were not his kill count, but rather the methods he employed to retire Mavericks.

He was nothing special outwardly. His speed did not match his size, but put a dash system on a reploid that was big and powerful enough, and even the largest tank of a Hunter could move with frightening speed.

He was incapable of extended flight, despite the wings of a mechanical dragon, but then, they were never meant for flight, or even intimidation.

Each wing broke apart into four 'bits', their own repulsor fields thrumming with power, dancing around behind him in a patternless fashion, a loud hiss of positioning thrusters accompanying each correction. Studying the area before him, he marked eight choice locations in the streets, and the drones sped off to their new assignments, trailing thick clouds of mist behind them as they did. When they got to their assignments, the clouds pooled and grew in place, soon obscuring much of the street and intersection. Just as well that they did. Now the carnage headed their way could only be made out as blobs of heat on an infrared scan, something more difficult to feel seething rage towards, emotions he generally tried to keep under control, but today was different.

Today was a rematch of sorts, and already the enemy was taunting them for having arrived late, making the innocent pay for every minute without assistance, and somehow, Cirrus knew that the leader of the oncoming armors had to be none other than Vile himself. There was something to the way it moved that made him believe it. Cirrus had not been in the Hunters when Vile had once been a part of that world, but he'd seen enough footage of the way he fought then, the way he'd fought in New Tokyo recently.

He marked other places for his team to move to, and they responded wordlessly, like a different set of extensions to his body. He could see what his Hunters saw, watching the few remaining civilians in this part of town be ushered away by police and a few of his men, as he'd directed.

_Good._

He dropped down to the center of the street, to the center of the rapidly expanding cloud of fog that was beginning to reach the rooftops of smaller structures, pulling from his back an eight foot length of metal, a short plasma blade igniting at each tip.

Relaxing his body, filtering out the sounds all around him save for that of the oncoming ride armor, Cirrus Tyber waited.

* * *

Vile could see what appeared to be a fog bank rolling towards him as he advanced the Goliath troop ever closer to what was obviously an ambush, an unimpressive one to announce itself like that. In response, he directed some of his units to take to the rooftops, intent on hitting the Hunters from above, while he plowed through the center with the rest.

At the very least, this would provide some entertainment. Plowing through the emptying streets was one thing, getting his hands around someone that could _really _struggle, that was something else.

Weaving between abandoned vehicles, and leaning the RA forward to pick up even more speed, Vile lead the ground element into the fog, picking out a lone thermal signature standing at the center of it, far too large to be a person or a normal reploid. _This is the guy, just waiting for me. When'd you folks __grow sets this big? How do you even walk around like that?_

He was isolated, all alone. Even if the other Hunters, whose heat sigs Vile could also make out, tried to intervene, at the speeds the RAs could move, they'd never be in time to save him from getting pasted. They'd had their last chance to intervene before he'd entered the fog.

He raised the right arm of the Goliath high, boosters firing at maximum output, the spiked gauntlet ready to come down on what would be the head of the Hunter.

And every instrument in the cockpit went dark, intense pain coursing through Vile as he could feel the machine lose balance, falling forward to the concrete, unable to move, unable to even scream in defiance. The only light in the machine now were from arcs of electrical current, traveling between him and the RA itself. The suit shook violently, and he could hear the armor tearing through the street. Another jolt, and he could feel the sensation of being airborne. There was the shattering of glass, the shriek of stressed metal, the rapid pinging of debris against the armor. Vile's world, already dark, went completely black and silent.

* * *

_That's one down,_ Cirrus thought, unable to see it in detail through the fog, but through his thermal vision he knew that all of the ground-side RA's he could make out had rushed straight into the electrical barrier his 'bits' had erected, the lead unit crashing into what he assumed was a storefront. Others spun out of control, crashing into one another. One unit actually caught fire, the various lubricants around the joints of the mecha igniting from the electric shock, the resulting explosion parting much of the cloud the 'bits' had been generating, revealing over a dozen RAs in varying states of disarray.

"Commander, your twelve, up high!" one of his Hunters cried out, calling his attention to the other half of the attacking Maverick suits, far luckier than their companions, had bypassed the barrier field, at least three of the Goliaths practically on top of him.

"Take 'em!" Tyber shouted into the comm net.

The 58th descended on the Mavericks, and the melee began.

**NAS Gangjeong**

Erebus estimated he'd downed six Bladers personally, combining with Kindle for a total of thirteen kills. A good start, considering they'd arrived late for the show. The Vanguard-Hunter combination was working out better than he anticipated. What concerned him was how relatively easy the defense of Gangjeong was ultimately proving to be, an interesting thought to have considering he'd not gone unscathed himself. A 'near miss' a Blader's plasma cannon had ripped apart the armor protecting his upper body, actually burning through his synth-flesh and shell, revealing internal workings once classified by the US government. Had the shot come closer, his reactor housing would have been melted open, and the ensuing containment field failure would have rendered a burial unnecessary and impossible.

With reports that the 58th Unit was dealing with Mavericks deep within Seogwipo proper, and the carrier that had dropped them into the fray still being minutes away from being able to provide any support for the Maverick mechaniloids at the base, Erebus could not help but think there was supposed to have been more to this attack.

_Maybe I'm over-thinking this. They did confirm Vile was behind it all._

Pulling his wrist mounted beam sabers out of his seventh victim, he rode the dying machine back down towards the ground, jumping clear just before impact. Landing roughly next to him, Kindle immediately made a sweep of their surroundings, then slid into a defensive stance in front of his Captain.

"You gonna get that looked at?" The feraloid gestured to Erebus' battered frame.

"Just unlucky, that's all. I'm still combat effective." A brief check of his internal operations energy told a more detailed story. At 38%, he was feeling sluggish, his vision occasionally hampered by static. Auto-repair systems sealed any vital fluid leaks, but he'd need to see technicians to handle the more serious structural damage. A stray shot to the wrong place would be enough, but he was not willing to withdraw just yet. Not while there were Mavericks he could take out his frustration upon.

_So, where does Nike fit into all of this, if this is even her op anymore?_

_If the endgame is to provoke a war between Russia and China, it's all but guaranteed now. What more do you want? Where do you really fit into all of this?_

"Skies are lookin' a lot more clear, Captain." Kindle relaxed somewhat. Around them, the battle was slowly beginning to wind down, the distant twin cracks of magrifle fire from the two Hunter snipers becoming less frequent as fewer Mitsubatchi remained in the air to shot at. They could see the Korean soldiers growing more bold as the odds grew more favorable. "There they go, put a reploid in charge, their balls grow large, yeah?"

"Maybe..." Erebus responded distractedly, his mind thinking of things other than the boldness of human combatants. "Maybe for them, the fighting will never stop, until they can fight no longer. Because it's what we were made to do."

"What was that?" Kindle took another concerned look at Erebus. "You sure your damage is just physical?"

"Maybe it isn't."

* * *

Ripping his hands out from within the fuselage of another Blader, Zero fell away from the machine just as the last of his Rakuhouha charges flared brightly from within the craft, his twenty-eighth kill. He made a quick, almost paranoid sweep of his immediate surroundings as landed back on solid ground, looking for another target, finding nothing within reach, his warp generator counting down its three minute cool-down period for the fourth time today. His HUD was constantly blinking internal temperature warnings at him, the result of near constant combat maneuvers well beyond what he typically demanded from himself.

He breathed heavily, trying to clear his mind of the red haze that had enveloped everything. He still shook with anticipation of a fresh target, a fresh kill, unhurt, ready to take on the rest of the island.

"_Commander Zero?"_ The voice of Major-General Myung caught him by surprise, enough to interrupt the combat high.

"I'm here." Zero said hoarsely. "I'm here."

He could see the human's expression on the comm window, a mixture of fear and respect.

"_We've received reports that you, and your forces, have all but routed the rogue Mitsubatchi over NAS Gangjeong."_

"Yeah." Zero nodded. "We're making good progress, sir."

"_You know of-"_

"The air carrier, yes, I do. According to Signas, we deployed the 58th Unit to help deal with that situation. We'll take care of it."

"_Of that, I have no doubt."_ The man paused. _"Thank you, Commander Zero. It seems that I was mistaken in my assessment of your kind. We'll handle the mop-up over the base as best we can. Assist your comrades in the city."_ The line went dead.

The Crimson Hunter shook his head. _Wonder how hard it was for him to say any of that. _He opened a channel to his task force. "Alright people, form up on me! Quick pow-wow!"

The vitals for every active member of the team flashed across, save for those of Solar Falcon, who'd been out of contact for far too long, had never returned to Gangjeong to assist the team, nor had he made an appearance in support of the 58th. Nobody was saying much, but most of the Hunters were thinking the same grim thoughts: Early retirement, if he was lucky.

_What a goddamned waste._

* * *

Sniping, as far as Adam was concerned, was not about personal skill.

It involved two things: Removing the factors that made the shot impossible, and then making the formerly impossible shot. Therefore, to Adam the art of sniping lay beyond the act of pulling the trigger on the weapon. Reploids like himself could ignore emotional factors more readily than humans, almost shut them away as one would flick the switch of a lamp. They could calculate for wind, terrain, and temperature factors that would affect the flight of a mag-round hundreds of times a second. He had no heartbeat to regulate, no need to control his breathing. He could lay motionless with his eyes open and focused on a given target for weeks at a time, if necessary. His HUD could analyze a target, and based on factors such as the positioning of a body or its limbs, the direction visible thrusters or flight surfaces were pointed, shifts within anti-gravity propulsion fields, he could accurately predict where a mark would attempt to move to, lead it, and put it into the ground with one clean trigger pull.

He needed no spotter, in the traditional sense. Bernard was not here to help him find his target, help him adjust the rifle for variables that could interfere with a shot. He was out among the enemy, cloaked, marking positions, specifically keeping an eye out for counter-snipers. The two he'd found were priority threats. The other Hunters were gathering around the target, but they were keeping their distance, keeping overwatch from a perimeter guard tower that had been lucky enough to not have taken serious damage. The moment Adam fired, the Hunters would know what direction it had come from. His cloak would keep him hidden in the visual and thermal spectrum, but that was the least of his concerns.

"_Still no sign of Vile showing up?"_

"_That's a negative. His carrier is still headed for this base, but according to what I've picked up from Korean radio traffic, the Hunters deployed another unit to intercept it. I'm within optimal engagement range of my buster with threats Alpha and Bravo, charges ready, waiting for go."_

"_Confirmed."_ With that, Adam made another adjustment to his posture, zooming in further on his target.

There was no guarantee he could make the kill, and the uncertainty of the moment was rather thrilling. At first, Adam had been confused by Nike's insistence that Zero Omega, one hunter among many, needed to die moreso than the others. Vile was an obvious choice, he simply knew far too much, and held his own goals and ideals higher than those of The Few. Their brief alliance with him had been one of convenience, and with those needs met, there was no reason to leave the possibility that he could compromise everything.

Having watched Zero's unrestrained rampage against the Mitsubatchi, that had cleared away much of the mystery about the mission. He was a real life man-made monster, 'berserker' a term that did little justice to his capabilities, and through it all, he'd shown a remarkable ability to focus that, to be a leader to his Hunters. Their presence, outnumbered by the mechaniloids, had still proven to be better than just another equalizer to the battle. They'd practically won, and Zero had lead the charge. A cunning, savage, and charismatic killer, one that presented an extreme threat to the plan itself, if left unchecked.

Nike would rather risk two of her sharpshooters now, rather than watch the likes of Zero tear the plan apart just before the moment of truth. In that sense, despite Vile having more knowledge of what the Plan actually entailed, he was a secondary objective at best.

_If Zero's like this, what does Maverick Hunter X hide behind that veneer of pacifism?_

Zero stood at the center of his Hunters, 1006 meters away according to the HUD. They'd elected to make the attempt from a distance, to give Adam something resembling a running start in the event he failed, though he'd seen that Zero had no compunctions about short-ranged warps to chase down a target. Adam could do the same to escape, but he needed to ensure Zero went down first. That came before his own personal safety.

Zero was partially obscured by the largest of the ones they'd observed, the one they had seen traveling with Number Four. He was pacing back and forth, apparently giving a briefing about their next move, gesturing towards Seogwipo, towards the carrier looming in the distance.

"_I need him to stop moving for a moment."_

"_Say when."_

There was silence as Adam made one final adjustment.

"_When."_

* * *

Erebus was among the last few reploids to make their way to Zero, his appearance earning him a few low whistles from Hunter and Vanguard member alike. The Crimson Hunter, by comparison, was relatively unscathed, superficial burns and scuff marks to his armor being the worst of his worries. Erebus didn't feel much in the way of envy for him, he'd watched what Zero had become in the thick of the fighting. Watched the berserker, the Demon, at work.

Zero actually had saved his life during some of the heaviest fighting. Having been blindsided by a Mitsubatchi, the plasma shot that could have been fatal had left Erebus unable to fight back for the briefest of moments. In a battle between machines that could think for themselves and 'pure' artificial intelligence, that fraction of a second could have decided everything.

Zero had descended on the machine from above, trailing behind him the brief vestiges of a warp transfer, his iconic green Z-saber lashing out in a a flurry of motion difficult for even Erebus to follow. The Mitsubatchi trembled in place with each passing of the blade, and crumpled towards the ground, falling into several large, cleanly cut pieces.

It wasn't the speed of the kill that had caught Erebus off guard. He'd used his own plasma sabers to great effect on the mechaniloids.

It had been Zero's expression, a broad teeth-baring smile, oil that more resembled blood splashed across his face. The throaty, purring growl he'd uttered as he'd landed in front of Erebus, before tearing off towards his next victim without a word.

That wasn't the Zero that paced before him now, calmly explaining the next move. The Hunter snipers had stayed at their position, listening in through the Network.

"The 58th is reporting they've met Vile and have stalled much of his ground forces in protracted combat. We've been authorized by Major-General Myung to leave the remaining enemy here at Gangjeong to his forces, and go take out that fancy lookin' carrier Vile brought out as the designated piñata." He looked Erebus. "I want to take my people to back up the folks we have on the ground. Commander Tyber reported that he'd sent some people to try and deal with the carrier, I'd like you back them up. Can you handle it?"

"I'm almost insulted you asked." Erebus shot back, throwing in as much bravado as he could muster.

"Simple enough, folks. Confirm your landing coordinates through GPS, and warp when ready."

* * *

Guernica was loading a fresh magazine into his rifle when a bolt of plasma materialized from thin air just outside of the guard tower, the source being a humanoid reploid, clad in black, light armor, the blast fired from point-blank relative to Lao as he had been performing a sweep of the field through his scope, the plasma already melting through the barrel of his rifle, through his forearms, his upper body, his head, and then the wall behind him, all reduced to glowing slag.

Dead before he could even react. Just like that.

It happened so fast and so agonizingly slow to Guernica. The curse of being better-than-human, the ability to observe the world around you, events taking place within it, with clarity humans only dreamed of.

"MAVERICK!" He shouted into the tactical net, red dot of his scope centered on head of the reploid, seeing a plasma grenade already in the air, obscuring part of his view. Dash thrusters firing, Guernica pushed himself back towards the hole the buster shot had made just behind him, pulling the trigger three times just as the grenade detonated, a flash of light blinding him.

* * *

Guernica's shout over the comm, followed by the blast at his post, froze everyone in place as they spun to see what had hit their sharpshooters. Zero's mouth dropped open to shout for his people to move, when purple blood poured from it, his body pitching forward as the center of his back and stomach seemingly exploded outward. The crack of the shot came a fraction of a second later.

"SNIIIIIPERRRRRRRRRR!" He screamed, stumbling, refusing to fall to the ground, managing to stay upright on his knees, one arm holding him upright, the other formed into a buster, pointed in the direction the round had come from.

Some Hunters began to scatter, towards what cover they could find. He'd lost sight of Erebus, who'd been one of those closest to him when he'd taken the hit, but saw Kindle literally carry two Hunters to a safer position

Zero snarled, willing his body up once more, dash system unresponsive to his commands, limping, defiantly aiming a buster at where he believed the sniper was. From what he could tell, the shot had come from or through a building.

_There's at least two, most likely more, with my luck._ He shook his head as best he could, fighting a familiar red haze that threatened to envelop his world once more.

Through one of the ruined hangars the shot had come from, he saw a flash of light, and threw himself into the air as best he could manage, twisting as he did, trying to get towards cover, reaching out towards the shell he could see coming, watching it as it drew closer-

* * *

Adam was fallible, despite the almost single minded purpose of his body, he could miss, he could fail. It just wasn't meant to happen often.

A mag round could travel at varying speeds, depending on the weapon used, the size of the round itself, and a number of other factors. His particular rifle fired 12.7mm slugs at just over twice the speed of sound, a miss typically meant something the target had done was a factor above anything else he could have influenced.

His first shot hadn't missed. He'd hit the 'spine' of the target, the shot skimming just past the waist of another reploid to hit the only part of Zero that had been visible when Bernard had started the assault that managed to keep him in place. On any other humanoid reploid, that would have been it. It would have taken some of the best personnel armor available, reinforced with TitaniTefloAlloy, or electrically charged Chobham-composite hybrid plating, to keep even specially modified Hunters standing after taking a round like that to their torso, much less to remain alive.

What Adam should have seen, what he wanted to have seen, was Zero keeling over, then being ripped apart as his reactor went critical, containment fields and casing utterly ruined by the force of the impact reverberating through his body. What he saw was Zero turning to face him, almost as though he could see Adam from this distance, through the hanger he'd been shot through, as though he was not fooled by the therm-optic camouflage.

What Adam did not know was that Zero was no reploid, that his father had built him to fight the main battle tanks of his era barehanded, and expected him to win against even more dangerous opponents.

He pulled the trigger again, and Zero was already in motion, his wounded body moving with incredible speed even now, one of his hands snaking out towards the round with purpose-

Catching it, spinning with the momentum, landing upright, still staring at Adam's position. A grim reaper staring at him through the scope, a kilometer away, hatred seething in his eyes.

_He can see me, somehow through the cloak, he can see me. That shouldn't be possible. It can't be possible._

And Adam knew fear, more intimately than ever before.

_What the hell _is_ he?_

"Bernard." He managed to say as he stood upright, feeling himself shaking uncontrollably as he did. "Disengage, break off now."

No response.

* * *

Guernica had suffered worse falls in his time as a Hunter. This was a minor inconvenience at best, even after landing badly on his back, his systems rated themselves at over ninety percent efficiency. He was more concerned with the Maverick.

Slowly rounding the corner of the tower, fiery ash raining down around him from above as the aftermath of Lao's death consumed what was left of their former post, Guernica slapped in a fresh magazine into his weapon. Checking his motion sensors for any sign of the Maverick, finding only a weak signature, just over human-sized, fifteen meters ahead, out of his immediate sight.

Lunging around the blind corner, he found the Maverick, half of his head blown to pieces, the other half oddly unscathed, a pained expression written on what was left of his face. There was a hole the size of a football drilled though his chest, his right arm severed below the elbow. The occasional arc of electricity ran along his body, but there was no sign of a severe reactor failure, no indication of a self destruct protocol. His purple blood had pooled considerably beneath him.

"You got me, Maverick Hunter." His voice, surprisingly clear, caught Guernica by such surprise that he almost fire a fourth, and likely fatal shot into him.

"Guess I did." Guernica nodded, scanning the Maverick again for any potential trickery. "You don't have much time left."

"None of us really do." The Maverick tried to prop himself up, so he could face his remaining eye at the man who'd bested him, but could only pathetically scratch at the concrete beneath him, legs barely twitching. "Wondering how I'm still here, aren't you?"

"Pretty sure I got your control chip." Guernica decided it couldn't hurt to chat a little bit, though he never lowered his rifle away from the target.

"Ours are closer to what humans call the sternum. Against a dozen or so laws, but we were never meant to exist publicly."As he laughed, his voice distorted as power flickered throughout his body. "You were close. Damned close."

"Why are you here?"

"To kill Vile, Mega Man X, and Zero Omega."

Guernica made sure his mission recorder was still running its program.

"They're threats to the plan." The Maverick continued. "For various reasons. Vile's outlived his usefulness. X and Zero...they're cornerstones to the Hunters."

"And that's why you attacked us." Guernica growled. "Good people died then, and now."

"Because you people are in the best position to stop it. As outcasts, you make...the best of impartial observers. The best way to succeed at anything is to eliminate the factors that prevent success. Basic strategy for life and war."

"What about this plan of yours?"

"Not today, Hunter. No one will tell you what that is, today. I suspect you'll find out for yourself."

"Killing Zero or X wouldn't stop us from being what we are, it wouldn't stop us from doing what we do best. With or without them." Guernica declared. "What are your real goals?"

"Sergeant One One Seven, name designate 'Bernard'. Code Uniform Romeo, Unable To Return." The dying Maverick seemed to relax even further, his armor sagging heavily against the ground, speaking to persons unseen and likely very far away. "I gave you my name. How 'bout yours."

"Guernica. Sharpshooter for the 21st Unit."

"Guernica." The Maverick repeated, nodding slowly. "Nike told us about you. No cowboy hat today, sniper?" He managed to smile despite missing half of his face, even as his body began to fail, as his speech became more slurred.

"Not today."

"I see." His only eye focused on something that seemed to be behind, beyond the Hunter standing over him. "It was never personal, Guernica." His voice had gained an almost serene quality. "A proper war never is."

He shuddered once more, and then he died.

Guernica studied the lifeless corpse for a minute longer than he thought he would have cared to. Then he shouted in rage, kicking the tower hard enough his foot went through one of its walls.

"Proper war, huh?" he asked, knowing he'd receive no answer. Pulling his foot free from the wall, Guernica knelt next to the dead Maverick, opening a channel to Zero.

"Guernica, you okay?" Zero's asked immediately.

"Situation has been pacified. One Maverick, one Hunter down." He lowered his head. "One Hunter down."

* * *

"Sit tight, Guer, we're taking fire on our end." Zero said laboriously, shaking his head as though he'd snapped out of a trance. The sniper didn't respond, didn't need to for Zero to know that whatever Guernica was doing, he'd prioritize the other Maverick above all else.

Lao's death would more than provide motivation for that.

He limped towards cover, studying his ruined left hand and at what remained of the sniper round in its palm. The hand crackled with energy, a distorted 'Z' mark that seemingly shone from underneath the remains of his white glove fading from it, something he'd never seen before. He didn't know what possessed him to even attempt what he'd done, only that it had been pure instinct, that he _knew_ it _could_ be done.

"Pops knew how to make 'em," he muttered to himself. Though he'd done much to keep this particular secret, there was another part of him that would have derived much amusement from the reactions others would have had over his origins.

He'd lost the use of a buster, sustained potentially mortal damage, but had likely put the fear of God into the would be assassin. A part of him thought grimly that it might have been worth it if he could have seen the look on the sniper's face. All but collapsing against a crashed Mitsubatchi next to a pair of Hunters, he could feel his strength ebbing away rapidly as subroutines shut down throughout his body, shunting power away from his mobility and combat systems to the auto-repair protocols. They'd saved his life before, and they'd likely keep him in the fight now.

He tried to bring up his GPS to mark where he believed the shooter was located, and found to his dismay he could not even manage that.

"You," he pointed at one of the nearby Hunters. "Bring up a map. I'm giving you some coordinates. I think I can place where that shooter is."

"_No need, Commander Zero._" Erebus spoke over the net calmly. _"Stay on mission, leave this one to me. I've got him. "_

* * *

Adam had never felt so _dominated_ by an opponent in his entire existence, and the worst of it was that he'd not actually been anywhere really near Zero in the first place. He imagined how badly things would have turned out if they'd tried a more direct approach, and remembered watching Zero maul the Bee Bladers. He decided things could have been worse.

Now was the time to escape, and there was no guarantee he could manage even that. There was no way they could accomplish the mission, under the circumstances. So shocked he'd been by Zero's survival of the attack, he'd not fired the remaining five rounds in the magazine, he'd simply watched as the Hunter scampered off to cover, obviously hurt, but more than willing and able to fight.

As he stood to leave, he was more surprised to see Bernard's HUD icon vanish from view.

_And then there was one,_ Adam thought bitterly.

He wondered if Nike knew what she'd sent her men into, wondered if she had some concept of what Zero, what the Hunter were truly capable of. Had she genuinely underestimated their capabilities? Had she overestimated those of her comrades?

Had she sent them to die?

Adam tried to control his emotions, tried to calm himself, wondering what happened to that mental switch he'd used so often before today. These were the thoughts of a frightened man, not the thoughts of a professional. He'd done his best to do his duty, and despite this, it had proven beyond his capabilities.

What mattered now was survival. What he'd seen needed to reach his comrades. Warping away was out of the question, it was likely they'd combed more than a few databases in the Warp Network to nail down Jeju-do. They'd even sent a scout towards Hallasan, likely wanting to investigate the areas the Network had sent users to in that vicinity. If Vile had remained hidden, there was a chance they'd have found his secret location regardless.

_Move, Adam. MOVE._

What finally spurred him into action was the sound of two beam sabers sparking to life, meters behind him. Turning to face the threat, he saw exactly whom he did not want to see, a dozen feet away, unable to determine exactly where Adam was hiding.

"You're nearby. Whoever you are." Number Four announced. "You might be who I'm looking for." He stalked several paces forward, stopping when something caught his eye on the ground. Kneeling, he deactivated one of his wrist sabers, picking up one of two spent shells, studying it carefully, almost. "I remember this. Barret-Browning LMR-2, fires a two stage cartridge, magnetically accelerated down the barrel, fin guided, armor piercing. If you were really gone, you'd have recovered your brass." Standing, he dropped the spent shell, the sound of it hitting the ground managing to stand out over the din of nearby fires, the occasional distant explosion of one of the few remaining Mitsubatchi taking a hit, or hitting something important somewhere on the base.

Turning his back to Adam, he re-lit the extinguished saber.

The Maverick raised his rifle slowly, studying his former comrade-at-arms, noting the damage he'd already sustained. Wondering why he was still in the field. Lining up the kill shot.

And hesitated.

"Interesting thing about the thermal optical camouflage we were built with. It's the quietest the US government ever developed for live combat." Erebus said, suddenly charging directly at Adam, taking a wild, wide-arced slash with the plasma blades.

He barely avoided losing his head, the barrel to his weapon severed in place of his neck. Dropping the cloak, he threw the remains of the rifle at the oncoming Four, watching it get bisected as he closed in. Adam reached for his own saber, its blade springing to life to stop Four's follow up slash, the twin, orange tinged blades stopping just inches away from his forehead, pushing Adam's own blue saber that much closer.

"But it was never quiet enough for us. Hello again, Four. Do you prefer Erebus?" He shoved back with as much strength he could muster, breaking the clash and pushing Erebus a dozen feet back. "I'd hoped to avoid this."

"Hello, One One Six. You are going to tell me where I can find Nike."

**Seogwipo  
****12:50 PM**

Cirrus suspected that the RA's they'd been fighting were unmanned, and quickly had proved himself correct. Prying open one of the dead Goliaths had revealed an empty cockpit, with signs that it had been remote piloted until the moment it had become inoperable.

His drone 'bits' were doing a good job keeping individual machines suppressed, even though the fog he'd generated had cleared, Cirrus had helped his unit make the most of the initial confusion he'd inflicted on the enemy. There remained much to be done. He directed his people and his drones where they needed to be, cutting off RA's that tried to slip past the net the 58th had cast. They'd managed to keep the machines away from evacuation efforts, but the AI that was governing them by remote seemed content to hunker down and fight defensively with the remaining machines, dragging out the battle for as long as possible.

The 58th had lost eight Hunters total thus far, but had managed to down over twice that number of ride armors. They were acquitting themselves well, but mostly because the mecha were fighting more cautiously, their controller likely wary of another ambush like the first. Eventually, they'd return to boldness, and hopefully, they'd get more help before that.

Complicating matters was Zero's recent report that his team had taken sniper fire, and that he was going to be unable to personally help deal with the encroaching air carrier. Diamond and Spade, the two Hunters Cirrus ordered to prioritize the ship, had yet to report any success boarding the vessel. There was no need to press them further on the matter, he could see what they saw easily enough. He gave five of his Hunters new waypoints, directing them to assist the boarding pair. It would have to do.

For now, it hung like a guillotine over the city as it continued towards Gangjeong, taking shots at police or military units that strayed too close. The Korean mil-net was buzzing with word that the GDC had a carrier of its own over the East China Sea, south of Jeju-do, and it had deployed a flight of fighter-bombers to deal with the Maverick vessel, which made the evacuation efforts that much more urgent. When the GDC fighters arrived, they would likely bring the carrier down on the city itself, and the resulting detonation of the on board power plants would be devastating. He had to get people on board to try and prevent that. The city would be spared, but a very welcome added bonus would be the mountains of intel they'd likely be able to glean from the vessel if they moved quickly enough.

_We just have to finish this before they get here._

Cirrus viewed the whole situation from on high, his perception of everything connected now to a Korean MilNet satellite that he'd 'borrowed' after confirming it had been safe to do so, adjusting its' orbit just enough that he could see everything he needed to see, when he needed to see it.

Which made it rather surreal when he could see a Ride Armor all too similar to the first one he'd disabled appear from behind a taller building the satellite was poorly positioned to see past, no more than what he estimated was fifty feet behind him.

He could see himself turn to face the Armor, see his drones closing in from all around him, see how truly small and useless his double beam halberd really looked against something that big and fast. More importantly, he could see that he was too late, hearing the roar of its dash systems tearing through the asphalt as it closed that short distance between them.

* * *

As furious as he could ever remember being, Vile had managed to keep his composure long enough to formulate a plan of attack the moment his systems recovered from the unsolicited shock therapy he'd received. The majority of the firepower on his Goliath had been rendered worthless, hard connections to the heavy auto-cannons and the plasma busters fried beyond the capabilities of the auto-repair systems. What he did have were the spiked gauntlets for fists on the mecha, the dash system, and the willingness to throw himself headlong at the Hunter who'd set up the ambush.

Using his connection to the other RA's, he'd picked out the commander of the unit he'd run into, taking note of his combat capability, his use of drone bits to disable RA's for his Hunters to destroy. Vile had been lucky in that the RA's managed to keep the Hunters away from him while he recovered from the electric shock. That aside, they were showing a remarkable level of thoroughness at dealing with disabled mecha. In general, their ability to respond to changes in the battlefield and the tactics of their enemy was well above normal.

And now he closed in on the Hunter he believed was making that possible.

* * *

Cirrus had good reflexes despite having been caught off guard, backpedaling swiftly as Vile swung hard with the right fist of his machine, dragging it through the street as he did. It was enough to save his life, as he'd managed to avoid being outright impaled by the spikes, even as the punch carried him up in the air, through a streetlight, towards another storefront, through the store front, various magazine and book displays, into a wall thick enough to stop both him and the ride armor. Now the spiked gauntlets did what they were meant to do, crushing and puncturing his heavy armor chestplate. From behind, the heavy carbon steel rebar inside the wall dug its way into him, piercing his left arm and holding it in place.

**Master Caution! Complete structural failure imminent! Auto-stasis and reactor shutdown recommended!** flashed across his vision.

Dust and debris littered the air, but not enough to hide the armor from his eyes as it leaned in closer to him, as though it were about to whisper into his ear some secret between friends.

"I gotcha where I wantcha and now I'm gonna eatcha." Vile singsonged from within the machine. "And you were doing so well. Outnumbered, out gunned, you ran a good race, but we can't all be winners."

At the elbow of the massive forearm behind the fist, a piston hissed and pulled back, extending almost as far as the arm was long.

Cirrus Tyber's eyes widened as soon as he recognized what was about to happen, leveling the one arm he could maneuver at the mecha, forming a buster as the pile bunker drove itself forward violently, his last sensation that of being thrown through the bricks, heavy concrete, and steel.

* * *

Vile cackled in triumph as he watched the Hunter rag-doll lifelessly through the rest of the building, out into the street on the opposite side, wrapping partially back first around the hood of an abandoned car. The Hunter's momentum was enough to lift the car up and over, both tumbling end over end several times through several more vehicles before finally coming to a halt.

Once he'd brought his laughing fit under control, he checked on _Rubicon_, pleased to see it report no major obstacles in its path. He imagined the Hunters, while busy trying to hold off his drone armors, were probably also concerned with taking down his ship, but the AI claimed it had thus far repelled all boarding attempts. The plan was working better than he hoped, which meant he truly had no idea what to do next that would be truly meaningful.

"Hell, we've come this far and lasted this long." Vile grumbled. "Ruby-cakes?"

"_Yes, Lord Vile?_"

"Forget about Gangjeong. There are more targets in the city."

* * *

For the 58th Wild Cards, the moment Cirrus Tyber's continuous satellite updates came to an abrupt halt was enough to shock even the more battle hardened fighters in the unit. With the consistent, accurate tactical and strategic updates that defined the way the unit fought under his command robbed from them, they slowly, but inevitably lost their fighting cohesiveness. While they'd whittled down a number of the ride armors the Mavericks had deployed, they'd only been able to accomplish much of that because they'd been told where and when they could expect the enemy to be.

Slowly, but inevitably, fire teams became scattered, separated, trying to deal with armors as they appeared without forewarning, threatening civilian lives. Teams of four became pairs, and occasionally, Hunters stood alone.

The 58th had not quite broken, still fighting well in spite of it all, but attrition, combined with the knowledge that their commander was gone, started to take its toll.

**MHHQ New Tokyo**

The moment Beryl announced that all contact with Cirrus Tyber had been lost, Signas had cursed aloud, surprising all present in the command center. He'd clenched and unclenched his fists, pacing furiously around the room. He was angry, at those that commanded him to show restraint, to use the absolute minimum force required. At himself, for having listened to them. To Signas, any progress he believed he'd made as the replacement for Doctor Cain, he'd thrown away acting like a simple lapdog without a mind of his own, under the guise that he was doing the right thing by being obedient to his human masters.

They could see the real time satellite display now showing the renewed bombardment the Maverick carrier was delivering on the city. They could see the could see the individual dramas of the 58th playing out in front of them.

He'd made the wrong call, again. As he'd done when he first took command after the passing of Cain, nearly destroying the Hunter organization in the process. He was killing his men and women.

_My reward for following the rules of men entirely disinterested in protecting those they serve,_ Signas thought to himself. _Only because they hold titles and ranks above mine. Because they are not reploids._

_Unforgivable._

He knew why he'd sat on his hands and allowed this to play out the way it had thus far. He was afraid. After the events of December 12th, he'd sat alone in his office for hours, trying to see where he'd gone wrong. Trying to see if his increasingly relaxed outlook had somehow lead to unnecessary losses. As commander, it was ultimately his responsibility to prepare his Hunters for such things.

Afraid to fail, he failed to act, failed to rely on his personal judgment that screamed for him to allow X to move the 17th and the 21st into action. Afraid to act without proper permission.

Even now, here he sat, watching his subordinates pay for his actions.

_No._

"Send word to General Lenneth that she is clear to deploy all of her available forces to Jeju-do," Signas announced. "I want every single able Hunter in the New Tokyo command to deploy to Jeju-do to relieve the 58th and Zero's team. Immediately. This farce ends _now._"

Once more, he could see his people look to him, this time with surprise. Embarrassed by his display, he leaned forward against one of the communications consoles as though he were studying the pixels on the LED display intensely, fingers rapping against the touchscreen control panel rhythmically.

"There is no more time to waste. I have done quite enough of that for us all."

The gathered commanders bolted out of the room, already calling orders into their com-links, save for Commander Snipes. Though he technically was the highest ranking officer of the 73rd Unit, being human meant he could not safely warp with the majority of his unit.

"I've passed the word to my reploids, sir." Snipes approached Signas, placing a firm hand on his shoulder. "You gonna be alright?"

"It seems I learn my lessons in leadership at ever increasing costs."

"It was a little late of you, but hell, better than never." Snipes chuckled. "I think Cain would approve of this. He did enjoy sticking it to those GDC pogues, when the chances arose."

"I suppose I could get used to that." Signas turned to his attention back to Beryl. "Open a line to MHHQ New York."

**NAS Gangjeong  
****1:01 PM**

Erebus and Adam fought in a manner closer to wild animals as opposed to built, programmed, and trained military machines. They'd not spoken another word after their initial greeting, concentrating solely on winning. The world around them ceased to hold meaning for them. Somewhere in the back of Erebus' mind, he knew that both Kindle and Zero had repeatedly requested a status update from him, but that was beneath his interest at the moment.

They had battled across a good chunk of the base, beam saber to beam sabers, scoring the occasional light cut here and there. Erebus was at a disadvantage, with a portion of his vitals exposed, and was fighting more defensively, growing stronger as his auto-repair nanos dealt with the more serious internal damages he'd suffered before the fight. Adam clearly made efforts to avoid attempts at killing blows, trying more to decisively disable his former comrade, but nonetheless pressed Erebus hard and fast. There were structural differences, but they were more or less identical in capability and skill. It was a vicious, fast paced stalemate.

Adam charged in yet again, slipping past the lethal arc of Erebus' plasma wrist blades shoulder first. The impact knocked Erebus flat, and in the next instant Adam was standing over him, his own saber on its way downward towards the forearms of his opponent, attempting to literally disarm his foe.

Erebus' dash thrusters whined with overuse as he pushed himself along the ground away from the Maverick. Despite the quick reaction, Adam's blade had melted through his right leg, disabling one of his thrusters, the working dash system forcing him into a nearly uncontrolled tumble before he disabled it, rolling back onto his feet, and he could hear another voice join the others in his mind, clamoring for attention.

"_Answer me, Erebus! Do you require assistance?"_

Lenneth was on Jeju-do. Vanguard, minus its human members, was to follow.

Even as his beam sabers clashed with Adam's once more, he could see past the flaring light of the plasma, see that in the distance, landing in the city, and much closer, all throughout NAS Ganjeong, he could see it. Nearly two hundred streaks of light, of various colors, raining down all around them. His people and the Hunters, coming from the heavens.

It was a clear violation of the agreement the Maverick Hunters and the GDC had with the Korean government, but he was certain that neither Signas or Lenneth cared much for that particular restriction they'd been forced to operate under.

_Good girl. It would have been a waste to leave you in the hands of the government. Big waste._

Erebus met eyes with Adam, and in them he could see realization of what the storm of warp light meant. For the briefest of moments, the tension evident in his body lessened. Resignation, perhaps?

"It's over." Erebus spoke for the first time since they'd begun their duel. "You know it, so do I. Whatever you're after, you'll never have it. Even if you warp away, we will track you. Find you, your comrades. And we will kill you all."

The moment suddenly passed, and Adam put so much strength into pushing Erebus back that their sabers began to lose their distinct shapes as the magnetic bottling fields surrounding the plasma struggled to maintain coherence. The ground literally crumbled at Erebus' feet as he struggled to stay upright, his damaged leg protesting against the strain, hinting at total collapse any second.

"Nike tells me," said Adam, "that she wants you to find her."

"Alright. Challenge accepted."

The damaged leg finally collapsed on itself, Erebus falling back, Adam falling toward him, off balance for a fraction of a second. Erebus reached out to him, grabbing a hold of the hand that held his beam saber, pulling Adam closer. Using his good leg to shift their collective weight, he spun them half way around, forcing the Maverick beneath him as he drove first one wrist saber into his chest, then the other, pinning the surprised reploid to the ground. Adam's body went slack immediately, his mouth opening and closing involuntarily from shock.

"No assistance required, Lenneth. I have what we want." Erebus said, staring down at the shocked Maverick, still twitching as Erebus straddled him. The tarmac underneath hissed and boiled from the plasma staked into it. "Now then. Fulfill your mission objective. Where is she?" Pulling his left wrist saber free, Erebus drew the hand back into a fist, the beam saber deactivating, then punched, with all his might, at a small location, unmarked, just below what would have been considered a human sternum. A dozen cables snaked free from his arm, jabbing into the Maverick seemingly at random locations.

* * *

Zero had managed to stand mostly by leaning against the ruined Blader. Signas' new orders, the information he was receiving, was all very good news except for the fact that in his current state there was very little he could do to help accomplish that mission. He'd been reduced to the role of spectator of a show he'd been a part of just a short time before, and having sent his warp-capable Hunters away to assist the 58th, he was finding solitude in the middle of a battlefield easily less appealing than some poets tried to convince people of otherwise.

The warp light landing on the island all around him was quite the thing to witness, he had to admit. Almost made waiting for his internals to be restored by his auto repair worth it, a powerful, humbling sight even to him.

The sound of yet another Mitsubatchi in the air much closer than he would have liked filled his ears, and he did his best to face the threat, leveling his remaining buster-capable arm at the target. While the rest of his combined team had done well to whittle away at the threat, there were still plenty of the fliers still up and still hostile. It was only a matter of time before one found him, on his lonesome. Erebus' Vanguard people had stuck to helping out at the base, but no one was near by to help him.

_Gotta be kidding me._ He fired his first shot, and the machine easily juked out of the way of the shot. He could see the infrared beams emanating from the craft, moving towards him as it occasionally jetted to one side or the other.

"Come on." Zero snarled, gesturing for the Blader to make its move. "Come on!"

A blue mass of plasma speared through it from above just as its sighted its autocannon at him, boiling into and through the tarmac effortlessly. It yawed hard to the left as control thrusters and anti-gravity fields failed, spiraling towards the ground. A second plasma bolt decapitated the craft, and it blew apart messily before impact.

Mega Man X landed gracefully just ten feet away from Zero, the buster he'd formed out of his right hand still smoldering with the heat of recent use.

"Signas and I thought you could use some help. Where's the rest of your Hunters?"

Zero rolled his eyes. "I had it under control, so I sent them off to help the 58th, those that are still warp capable." He poked X in the chest. "Like I need a rescue, screw Signas, and screw you for coming here with that smirk on your face." They shared a laugh.

"What the hell hit you?" X asked, inspecting Zero's damages with wide eyes.

"Mag-rifle, prolly at about the very extreme range it could have been fired to punch clean through me. Too far, it'd have just bounced around inside me, no more Zero." Almost amused at his physical state, he pushed his right hand into the gaping hole at his belly, trying to see if he could reach all the way through. He couldn't. "I've lost my warp generator, but that's not so bad, all things considered. I've really got to stop being this lucky."

"I'd have been here sooner, but Signas...he was tied up by red tape."

"Seems to have cut through it okay. What's the sitrep?"

"The 17th, with the help of Vanguard, are mopping up around Gangjeong. Signas sent pretty much every able Hunter out of New Tokyo into Seogwipo to relieve the 58th and secure the air carrier the Vile's got over the city, hopefully before GDC or Korean fighters arrive to shoot it down. On that end, I've got Gavin's 21st lending a hand."

"Doesn't sound too bad when you say it."

"It's the bottom of the ninth, and we need to hit this out of the park." X shook his head. "There are still around thirty Bladers in the air. Are you ready to move?"

In response, Zero drew his saber from its charging port.

* * *

Everything felt so heavy to Adam, particularly the weight of his former comrade atop him, a beam saber stuck through a part of himself, a hand deep within another. His HUD warned of various 'foreign interface attempts' being made, of but there was nothing he could do to stop it now. The world seemed to grow more distant from him, as though he were sinking into the ground slowly.

"_So, this is how it ends for me."_

"_Yes it is, One One Six."_

Adam found himself standing on nothing, his mind's representation of the the Network, the Electrosphere, far below. He could see where the Network still remained severed by Vile's viral attack, see individual connections restore themselves. Before him, stood Erebus, looking nothing like he did today, instead appearing as he once did as a member of the 2nd RSF.

"_Clinging to better times, Four?"_

"_Your definition of better is...lacking."_

"_Your tactics changed rather suddenly. Why?"_

They stared at the Electrosphere together in silence for a moment.

"_Just following orders, you could say. If Nike wants me to find her, then I will."_ Erebus finally answered.

"_It's a submarine. Even I don't know it's exact location now. I can tell you that when you finally do locate it, you'll have been too late."_

"_Explains a lot. So what's the plot? You've instigated a war, seemingly unavoidable at this point."_

"_It's nothing you aren't already intimately aware of, Former Commander. We're doing what our original mission dictates. Just as Apollo said."_

"_I quit the unit, shortly after that speech if you'll recall."_

"_And you never reported it to our overseers. For disagreement, that seems like a rather mild response."_

"_I never disagreed on the basic principals driving the mission. I disagreed with the methods."_

Adam laughed, almost harshly. _"Ridiculous, especially from you, Four. I looked up to you. Once upon a time, I could have been your Tonto, Mister Lone Ranger."_

"_Hell, Five was the one to get us hooked onto that show."_

"_Chronos? Good girl, wasn't she?"_

"_That the name you people gave her."_ Erebus shook his head. _"Don't think I'll ever understand."_

"_Yeah." _Adam's expression became wistful. _"A real beauty, she was. Then again, I guess all the women of the RSF's were built that way. Not so impressive when it's mass produced, still, a good e-warfare specialist, one of the best."_

"_Lead you and the Terrible Trio, didn't she?"_

"_Yeah. She did. I wasn't there, the day it happened. I was in the arcology."_

Erebus sighed. _"One One Six, I don't feel sorry for what I've done. Mavericks are Mavericks, regardless of their cause, their beliefs. She had to die in Los Angeles. Just like you have to die today."_

"_I don't want you to regret it, sir." _Adam frowned. _"Sacrifices have to be made to achieve a greater objective."_

"_Until there is no enemy, but peace,"_ Erebus recited. _"Built for war, expected to maintain peace through superior firepower."_

"_Like Repliforce, like the Hunters. The difference between us all is a matter of perspective, that's something that can be fixed."_

"_If reploids, who can share thoughts, memories, personalities, can't agree on how best to unite, you can't possible expect humanity to be able to."_

"_Not as it stands, not simply by working 'inside' the system, like you."_

"_So, 'one big push', all over again."_

"_Just like you suggested, back then." _Adam opened his arms wide, as though welcoming Erebus into an embrace._ "That's why I can watch my friends die, one by one, watch their blood stain your hands. We want to be that 'one big push'. We will be that calamity. We would happily drop another hundred Sky Lagoons, we would turn suburbs to ash, without hesitation. Line up the innocent, execute them on live international television, and we'll wear the colors of any nation we see fit to. We'll set the nations of the world at eachother's throats. Whatever it takes. Fighting for peace is what we were built to do."_

"_SKYLIGHT. You want SKYLIGHT._" Erebus nodded as another puzzle piece inside his mind fell into place, as his imagination continued mulling over days of investigation even now. _"That is why Hecatonchire was in hiding there."_

"_There isn't a bigger stick to shake at the whole planet," _Adam said firmly. _"But why stop there? You know the game now. The real question is, will you be able to stop us before we succeed?"_

"_Well, Sigma tried that trick once, and the human race didn't flinch, didn't blink, and still finds time to be savage to one another. Maybe he wasn't thinking big enough. Maybe you've got it right this time," _said Erebus. _"In the end, it depends on how quickly we can retire you all. I think we're off to a good start."_

Adam smiled. _"Good answer, Four. Good luck to you."_

Erebus turned back to his former comrade, his expression sorrowful, and then his avatar winked out of existence a moment later, abandoning that world of data for reality once more.

Adam was alone now, and yet he was surrounded by friends, as the end came for him. He could sense their presences all around him inside the Network. He knew that _she_ had heard everything, as impassive an observer as ever.

"_Nike. I believe you miscalculated,"_ Adam said, addressing her directly._ "Zero, X, Vile, they're not the people we should have been sent out to kill, though I admit death was likely an inevitability either way."_

"_I'm sorry, I disagree with you, but I understand why you would believe that."_

"_That death was inevitable, or that Erebus is a greater threat?" _To that, she remained silent. _"He will come for you, and he will show no mercy. Is that what you wanted?"_

"_Yes." _Nike said. _"I am sorry for what I sent you all to do. Your reward is inadequate. You fought well, Adam."_

"_We _all_ did." _Adam gazed once more at the 'Earth' below him._ "We did what we did because we believed in the cause. Now, make it count."_

"_We will."_

The Network seemed to grow brighter suddenly, as her angel-like avatar appeared before him, one last time, and he wished that there was some way he could continue to watch everything unfold.

* * *

Kindle had been lucky enough to watch Zero use a short range warp to assist in dispatching mechaniloids, or simply to evade attacks he could not do so through the natural agility within his frame. It almost bothered the feraloid that he hadn't thought of doing so himself, before today. He bore down on his next victim with speed greater than he could achieve alone, riding the last vestiges of warp light trailing him, hands outstretched, claws extended, flames jetting from his 'mane'.

The claws, vibrating so fast that their hum could be heard even over the air rushing past him, sank like easily enough through the light armor plating atop the Blader, his arms driving into the machine up to his elbows, before tearing it wide open, almost entirely in half at its 'thorax', passing through effortlessly. A quick burst of his dash thrusters slowed him down to a safer speed, and he hit the ground running.

When Zero had been shot, the Captain had disappeared within seconds of the actual hit. The last anyone had heard was him telling Zero he was dealing with the shooter personally. He'd been silent on the tactical net from that point forward, and no further sniper fire had come their way.

_Be nice if he let us all know he's okay._

Kindle had placed a rough location to where he believed the sniper had shot from, but had not been given much opportunity to investigate it himself. Supporting the locals had to come first. With additional help arriving, he could tend to that.

When he came to that place he'd marked in his mind, he'd found the signs of combat, very personal, between two reploids, of average height compared to him. He found a pair of shell casings compatible one of fifteen actively used varieties of mag-rifle in the world. The burn marks on the ground typical of recent and frequent bursts from dash boots. Smoking gashes that marked where plasma cut through the tarmac.

Kindle began to run raster, in his mind he was recreating the battle that had been fought, as it traveled though a burned out hangar, through a parked fighter, lying in half, its hull heavily dented from the foot falls of reploids passing over it. The trails of low flying charged plasma here and there.

He kept running.

When he found Erebus, he found him atop a Maverick similar to the ones he'd been shown in the briefing before coming to Jeju-do, left hand embedded inside its chest. From the arm had sprung forth dozens of data wires, plugged into to various parts of the Maverick. Kindle came to a halt, his body immediately tensing once more, unsure what to expect.

Erebus pulled his hand free and stood up, staggering back several steps, his bad leg an increasingly greater hindrance with every moment weight was placed upon it. The data cables disengaged from the Maverick, sliding back into Erebus quickly and silently.

"So, that's how it is."

"Captain?" Kindle asked, watching The Captain ignore him.

"Goodbye, One One Six."

Erebus leveled both hands towards the Maverick, busters formed, plasma gathered in seconds, roiling at the tips of both weapons, the distinct whine of capacitors and containment fields attempting to control and compact raw destructive power.

"Captain, don't-" Kindle said reflexively, as the busters reached full strength, and fired.

Little remained of the reploid known as One One Six, save for a pool of his slagged and the occasional spark from what remained of his legs and arms. There was nothing left that could even cause secondary explosions. It had been a ruthlessly efficient kill.

"That's how it is." Erebus said once more, still paying no mind to Kindle, though obviously aware that he stood behind him now. Finally, he turned away from the dead Maverick, to face Kindle.

"Captain, we're-"

"Here to help. I know." Their eyes met. The Captain's expression was blank, unreadable, unknowable, but for his eyes. They betrayed something Kindle had never seen in the reploid before: anger, barely held in check, even as he fell back towards the ground, his bad leg refusing even to support him standing in one place.

"Was he...one of the 2nd RSF?"

"Formerly. As you can see." He frowned at the pieces of dead Maverick. "I got what I needed from him. No need to salvage something so far gone."

"What the hell have you been doing?" Lenneth said, arriving seconds later, angry and breathless, showing signs that she'd already seen combat in her short time on Jeju-do. "I've been trying to get a status update from you, what happ-" And then she saw Erebus sitting, almost catatonic, lost in his own thoughts, and her indignant act rapidly faded away. She turned to Kindle. "What happened here?"

"Couldn't tell you." Kindle said. It was truthful enough. He asked himself if this had been what the Captain meant by no longer wishing to be 'that good', and he did not like the answer he came up with.

* * *

There still remained much to be done, and there was little time to spare in accomplishing it all.

With so many Hunters now in the combat zone, matters had become complicated, more so than Signas could have imagined as he heatedly made his case for once more breaking the chain of command to unsympathetic human superiors in Amsterdam.

Vanguard had all but taken over Hunter responsibility of defending NAS Gangjeong, but the damage to the facilities and casualties to Korean personnel had already been done. In Seogwipo proper, the Hunters, with Gavin's 21st in the lead, still found themselves harassed by ride armor and the sheer offensive firepower the Maverick carrier had to offer, with things further complicated by the fact that civilian law enforcements were only barely keeping the fleeing civilian populace in something bearing a semblance of order. Hunters quickly found themselves unable to go fully on the offensive, their duty to protect innocent lives coming first. For the moment, Vile's ship commanded the skies.

With the GDC having already deployed a sizable fighter-bomber group towards the island, they'd given a simple, unspoken ultimatum to Signas: If the Hunters and their 'uninvited' American friends were unable to pacify the situation themselves, the GDC military would, the objections of the Korean government and the Hunters notwithstanding.

Regardless of the means, there would be no Mavericks on Jeju-do by the day's end.


	11. Phase 9: The Supercircus Part Three

_"Hard pressed on my right. My center is yielding. Impossible to maneuver. Situation excellent. I am attacking."_

**-Ferdinand Foch, at The Battle of the Marne, 1914**

_"My hero!"_

_-_**Vile, May 26th, 2118**

_"For being so terrified of the capabilities of modern reploids, we certainly have gone above and beyond the call to make them beyond capable of dominating and replacing man in all aspects of war."_

**-General Riley Culverson, during an interview in 2132**

**Phase 9: The Supercircus (Part 3)**

**December 12th, 2133**

**Mount Hallasan**

**1:03 PM**

**Alert! Internal Operations Energy at 27 percent, severe risk of Program Loss! Alert! Armor Integrity Rating severely diminished! Alert! Left Arm not detected/not present, diagnostics confirm nerve endings severed! Alert! Artificial blood/transfer fluid loss has exceeded operational standards, Auto Repair System unable to fully compensate! Immediate use of Sub-Tank One commencing!**

_Lovely,_ Solar Falcon thought as he awoke on the lake's surface, feeling every last bit of the ongoing list spreading across his vision. Though he'd 'lost consciousness' from the repeated hammer blows of anti-aircraft missiles detonating far too close for comfort, the emergency services built into his frame had gone into action to save him from sinking deeper into the crater lake, moving his body for him while he was not 'present' in mind to do so.

He'd drifted close enough to the shore that he could actually stand on land, the water reaching just up to his chest, flowing into his body through the various breaches in his armor. He felt heavy, exhausted, but alive. His connection to the network remained surprisingly unhindered, and the rush of tactical and strategic information only spurred him to slog faster out of the water, managing a limping jog as he finally made it to the shore, feeling himself grow lighter by the second as dirty lake water drained out of him with every step.

His options were staggeringly limited, given the circumstances. He could take to the air, his anti-gravity systems would be enough to maintain low-altitude flight, but his paired main engines on his back were inoperable. He'd have to rely on the smaller verniers all over his body that remained functional to force more speed out of himself, and hope the damage to his wings would not be enough to ruin his flight profile.

_Come on, me, FLY!_

Still trailing water, he felt himself lift off the ground, awkwardly swaying about as he did. Verniers fired to stabilize him, and soon enough, he'd picked up decent air speed, hugging the earth below him as close as he dared while climbing out of the Hallasan's crater.

As bad as the warning messages repeating themselves along the bottom of his vision were, there was one thing that hadn't come up for which he was grateful. His right arm shifted back into buster mode, and another helpful messaged blinked on the HUD.

**Sub Tank One empty, IOE stable. Solar Plasmic Wave Cannon online, diagnostics confirming system integrity. Auto-Repair estimate in current conditions: 12 hours, 49 minutes.**

Falcon had enough holes in his frame that he was likely going to put the techs back at HQ into fits, but at the least he felt strength flowing through his frame once more. The truth of it was, no matter how many sub-tanks he could fit inside his body, energen and the nanomachines that made up his auto-repair systems could not completely restore heavily damaged body parts, but they could at least keep him in the fight. His left arm hung limp at his side, his repair systems having yet to restore functionality to the limb, leaving Falcon's big gun dangerously unstable to use from too great a range. No matter. He did not intend to snipe from afar, he wanted something more guaranteed. He just needed to get to the target in time, and thankfully, as he crested the crater, it was literally all downhill from there.

**NAS Gangjeong**

Hilde had warped into Gangjeong with the expectation that she would find herself in the middle of heavy fighting. Her buster was out and charged within a second of re-materializing, her free hand already on the grip of her own plasma saber. Like the seven other reploids in her squad, she spun around, her purple eyes darting about, taking in her surroundings as best she could, ready to engage the enemy as they appeared-

And found the situation in NAS Gangjeong mostly under control.

"Alpha's down, and ready to move on targets as they appear." She reported in, hoping she hadn't let disappointment slip into her voice.

There still remained a small number of Mitsubatchi in the air that her targeting systems, now connected and being fed raw data from the Korean MilNet, immediately called out as hostile. Still, they were too far away in general for her team to reach without using a short-warp, something they all had to wait several minutes for. They occasionally swept in to strike at targets of opportunity, but nothing immediately near her team. It had become apparent from the data that the worst of the fighting here had passed. To the great relief of all Vanguard, Lenneth had been able to confirm that The Captain, Kindle and his Bravo team were in fighting shape, with no losses on their end. Zero's detachment had apparently been less fortunate, but the bottom line was that they'd acquitted themselves well here.

"All teams are in AO." Lenneth said over the primary net. "Objectives set and marked. DARKSTAR intel feed active. Confirm?" Hilde clicked her mic in reply along with the other team leaders. DARKSTAR was the shorthand reference to one of the full-flight capable reploids from the former 1st RSF, assigned to high altitude reconnaissance, her equipment marking targets for every reploid connected to her network.

Lenneth's briefing was thankfully terse. Zero had sent the majority of his remaining Hunters into Seogwipo proper to help deal with the more dramatic situation developing there, which would have left Vanguard in command of the clean up at the base if a detachment of the 17th Maverick Hunter unit hadn't posted itself there as well. It was well past overkill at this point, but the argument could easily be made that there was no such thing as overkill, in regards to Mavericks. The bottom line: NAS Gangjeong needed to be cleared quickly, there was literally a much larger fish to fry.

"Alright kids," Hilde drawled with practiced pseudo-boredom. "Pair up, find anyone who needs our help, and do what you can for 'em. Pairs will operate independently, keep your channels open if you suddenly need back up." She jabbed a thumb at the last of the rogue mechaniloids flitting through the sky. "Those things are still an issue, keep them away from fuel stores, ammo dumps, supply holds. If any of that stuff still remains. Move." They nodded in silent reply, their helmets activating protective, featureless armored screens, makinging them faceless, dark figured killers, and they dashed off with their respective partners.

Hilde's partner noticed the slight droop in her shoulders as he approached her. An MSWAT veteran, Vanguard had been the next logical move for Zak. Another one of the hand picked reploids the Captain had farmed up out of his vast network of military contacts, Zak was a former Marine. Hilde had looked to him for advice, and could have been a squad leader even now. For some reason, he preferred to remain one of the commanded over being one of the commanders, declining a leadership role when it had been offered. Zak had fought through the September rebellion, accounting for himself well. It was good to have him in the team.

_He's in the slot Ricky has had for the last year-and-change, and he's better than he ever was and will be._

_Of course he'd be, he's a reploid like me._

And she hated knowing that.

"You're pretty upset, leaving the humans behind on a job like this."

"Too observant for your own good." Hilde admitted. She dashed off first, but he easily kept up. "We're headed to the waypoint I'm designating now."

Zak shrugged. "Your lead, boss-lady. IFF for two Hunters in that sector, FYI. Second closest concentration of Bladers in the AO." His voice lost its calm diction for a moment. "My HUD says they're X and Zero."

"Wanna get their autographs?" She asked her (temporary, she reminded herself) partner, drawing her saber now, disabling all of her movement limiters, wondering if humans felt the same rush she did when charging head first into danger. Even at from eight hundred feet away and closing rapidly, she could see the familiar figures of X and Zero, standing their ground back to back, as Bladers owned the skies above them, and hoped they'd consider this appropriate payback for last time.

* * *

Zero's self-repairs were taking much longer than he'd led X to believe, the stubbornness that both shared yet hated about eachother on display even now.

"They're definitely adapting," Zero muttered. "They definitely know we're the big names out here. Singling us out."

"Well, we are famous," X shot back, while sighting another Blader as it came in for another pass. It unleashed its own burst of plasma simultaneously with the the Azure Hunter, and they both did their respective best to avoid getting taken out of the game. X was far more successful, yanking Zero along with him just away from the effect radius of the plasma wave. The mechaniloid pulled away, trailing flame and even bits of molten armor as it struggled to climb to safety, seconds later breaking in half as it dragged it's abdomen against the tarmac.

The coordination of this group was disconcerting. The seven machines they faced were Bladers that hadn't quite been disarmed to the extent the GDC had recommended before the mess had begun, likely because the process had been disrupted. That aside, it meant that they were up against proper tank-killers, nothing like the neutered machines Zero's Hunters had been cutting a swath of righteous fury through before now. Zero's condition, while not worsening, was making him into a liability neither Hunter wanted to openly name.

Still, coordinated as they were, damaged as Zero was, it wasn't changing the inevitable outcome.

"How bad are you? And are you going to tell me the truth this time?" X demanded.

"I should really just find a good spot to drop into stasis."

"Were you going to tell me this eventually?"

"If I remembered to before the auto-system forced me into it."

X spared him an incredulous glance, just as the now familiar sound of dumbfire rocket barrages filled the air, prompting the two to split away from one another.

Mid-dash, X twisted himself around, thrusters still blaring, looking for the incoming projectiles, his buster snapping to the cluster of explosives, loosing a full charged shot in their path, cutting down their numbers significantly. Leakers he dealt with smaller blasts, picking off the last few easily enough. It had been an impressive barrage, nothing a little fratricide couldn't have handled, but they'd likely have scattered in the last seconds of their approach, to try and catch the Hunters in any direction they tried to flee in.

And now, he had the direct attention of two Bladers.

_This is familiar._

X watched with some fascination as both machines took up position, side by side, their heavy abdomens folding forward, their armed tips adjusting slightly to aim for him. He stood his ground, his left hand now a buster priming another supershot.

He no longer had his armors, the final partings gifts from a man he'd never known personally, and to date, no more additional sets had made themselves available. Weapons he'd once acquired from Mavericks no longer remained within his systems, a fail-safe he'd come to curse and respect. By all rights, he wasn't as well armed or armored as some of the people in his own command.

But he didn't need his armors. He didn't need the additional firepower.

The Bladers led their new assault with two anti-tank missiles apiece, fired in sequence, again in a pattern that would trap all but the fastest of reploids. Simultaneously, the heavy plasma cannons mounted on their 'tails' spat fire as they prepped their own war shots. The programing that had overwritten their core logic recognized X for who and what he was. They meant to be thorough.

X respected the danger speeding his way, already bursting into action. He took in the world around him, the various factors in play, made a decision, and acted on it. One smooth flow of thought into action. He leapt forward, his foot briefly in contact with the first missile as he pushed away, foot-thruster blaring, still gaining height, eyes never leaving the Bladers, seeing them start to pull back, verniers firing in response to what they'd witnessed. He saw their chin-mounted chain cannons spin up, still slow to X, who was still operating on a different level, something his father had anticipated and prepared him for, but hoped would never be necessary.

He picked the Blader furthest from him, and fired.

_"Good effect on target, Commander X,"_ a woman's voice complimented him over the 'Net as the Blader was consumed by the blast. _"Friendlies coming through, your three 'o clock."_

The second Blader took two bolts of plasma from the direction the woman warned, sloughing massive chunks away from the machine. Two armored reploids flung themselves at the machine from the same direction, beam sabers sinking into the ship up to their hilts, jumping clear as explosions brewed up within their victim.

The sky immediately in front of X was now clear.

Landing gracefully, he sized up the new arrivals, their faceless appearance throwing him off for a moment, until the helmet of the leader slid open to reveal Hilde. It was hard to forget her face, not after the repeated 'thank yous' she'd spouted in the wake of the September incident. In a sense, it was unfortunate she'd not taken up his offer to join the Hunters. There was a definite reason why she was in a leadership role within Vanguard.

"I think we're even now, sir," she remarked with a self satisfied smirk on her face.

"It's good to see you again Hilde. I'd shake your hand if we had the time," X said politely, but quickly. "We have to stop meeting like this. Your assistance is appreciated."

"It's a pleasure." She spotted Zero, ducking behind cover, still trying to buy time for his recovery systems. "Zak, secure him and get him to safety if necessary."

"On it." He sprinted off, fast even without dash assistance. X doubted that his speed would be enough to evade being targeted, but it was impressive nonetheless.

"Two hostiles inside personal threat perimeter, three more on approach vector, our six." Hilde announced.

"Leaving twenty confirmed at last count." X converted both of his hands into buster mode. "We have pressing matters outside of this facility and exactly no time to waste. I intend to deal with said matters as soon as possible."

* * *

"Who the hell are you and what the hell took you people so long?"

Zero was, for all intents and purposes, out of the fight, having found something to rest/hide behind. The strain he'd placed on his body had finally caught up to him. Safety overrides, put into place decades before today, had overridden his desire to stay at his friend's side. More exactly, his legs had been 'temporarily disabled' the moment he'd found a place to lay low, while repair routines did their best to stabilize the massive hole that ran through his lower torso, an effort that was seemingly in vain, and only making the Hunter feel weak and beaten. His frustration over this fact found an easy target in the reploid his systems identified as 'Zak' of Vanguard, part of the long awaited reinforcements his people could have used much sooner. Zak didn't seem too bothered by the rant, taking Zero's string of verbal abuse without so much as blinking an eye.

"My orders are to secure you." Zak replied, once Zero finished his tirade.

Zero punched the piece of cover he was resting against. "I'm secure, goddammit! I'm a frakking bug in a rug here!"

"Your IOE seems stable. Can you move in your condition?"

"No." Zero's expression was dark, and would have intimidated most. Zak didn't seem to mind. In his mind, he could recall times where he'd been unable to do anything simply because his body had failed him in some way. He could sympathize with Zero.

"Your combat capabilities exceed mine, the sooner you can be back in the fight, the better." Zak stated. "How much time do you require?"

"Unknown," Zero admitted.

"My orders are to secure you," Zak repeated. "I will buy you as much time as needed." With that, his left arm shifted in several places, the hand withdrawing into the overall frame, a barrel extending from what had been his palm. A box magazine flashed into place at the elbow joint. The whine of an activating magnetic accelerator as accompanied by a helpful blue LED running along the length of the weapon, indicating a readiness to fire. He crouched to brace himself, his lead foot clamping into the tarmac.

"Nice toy," Zero offered. He gauged the weapon to be a .50 caliber.

"Sergeant Zak, former 0331 Machine Gunner, USMC." He clenched his teeth, and found a target.

His first burst of ten magnetically accelerated armor piercing rounds pushed him back slightly, striking a Blader along the length of its fuselage. Not enough to kill, but enough to get its attention, swiveling quickly on its attacker. The thing that struck Zero most was just how loud the weapon sounded, a staccato of thunder claps, surprising even to him.

The second burst of fifty rounds pushed Zak back a foot, the bracing clamps digging a short trail through the ground. The rounds, though accelerated by the barrel, were also assisted by more traditional chemical propellants, and as such, each round built had so much muzzle velocity they left streaks in the air as their penetrating tips heated up cutting through the air. The effect of the barrage was impressive and decisive, the ruined hulk of mechaniloid crashing down to the ground almost directly below where it had sustained the fatal assault.

"Get some!" Zak shouted, standing up now, and charging at another Blader that took up the position of it's fallen comrade. 'Going cyclic' was the term he might have used back in the Corps. The force of the weapon being fired in full-auto was enough to slow him down, until he activated his dash thrusters, pushing forward, guiding every single round accurately at his second customer, dismembering it.

"GET SOME!" He swept the machine gun across the sky, firing until the rapid click and whine of capacitors indicated he was empty. Boldness seemingly forgotten, Zak quickly fell back to Zero's position, the empty magazine dropping free from the weapon as he moved, a fresh one blinking into place.

"I have their attention. Commander Zero, I will leave you one spare energy condenser tank, and proceed to newly designated coordinates to divert and suppress enemy targets from this position."

He did not wait for a reply, he simply pulled the mentioned e-tank from a rack mounted on his back, and jetted off. The _boom boom boom boom_ basso thumps of his weapon firing marked his position for all to hear in the area, followed by counter-fire from Bladers suddenly interested in taking out this new threat.

* * *

Hilde's knowledge of X's capabilities came mostly from what she'd read on the Net, from various bits of footage that had been captured of him in action during the various incidents he'd been involved in. His file was one of great interest to many involved in 'the business' of Maverick hunting. Many confirmed kills, and many of his victims ranked as A or even S level threats. These were the sorts of reploids that had been known in Hunter slang as 'city-breakers', a name that had come into use via their ability to shatter daily life in any given city they chose to terrorize, much akin to a natural disaster, they could drive hundreds of thousands into hiding for fear of their lives. Machines of great destructive potential, blessed with lethal arsenals that made fighting one alone a suicidal prospect for a Hunter. Powerful enough to give the Hunters headaches around the world, and more than capable of operating alone for whatever given objectives they'd been assigned with near impunity.

And yet X, ranked B, had almost always come out on top. Even outnumbered, outgunned, and seemingly unable to summon the armors that had given him the fearsome reputation he'd earned over the years, he'd survived far worse than what killed many that shared his rank. He was known for almost pacifistic leanings, yet still raised the weapons he'd been built with in service to the Hunters.

He stood alone and apart from her, having told Hilde to stand clear of him, as though ground beneath his feet held some personal significance to him.

"I'm the one they want," he'd said, referring to the Bladers that had begun to tighten the proverbial noose around their necks. Emphasizing his statement, each Blader fired a pair of anti-tank missiles.

Hilde was already airborne as the first missiles dropped free from their racks, taking advantage of their focus on the Maverick Hunter. Flying through the smoke trail left by one of the missiles, she managed to get a hand on one of the landing struts on her chosen target, her other hand gripping her plasma saber tightly as she vaulted her way up along the side of the craft, dragging the weapon through the midsection of the Blader until her HUD filled with heat warnings. She dropped away from the dying Blader seconds before it ripped apart, chancing a look at X, knowing that even in the moment that had passed, if the Hunter hadn't gotten clear, that was it for him.

X was in motion himself, still defending the ground he stood on. Both busters fired controlled bursts of plasma, precisely targeted at the incoming projectiles in front of him. He spun around, firing another series of shots behind him and in front of him, downing yet another pair of missiles. His momentum in the spin carried him around fully, more buster fire picking off missiles. The closest and last of the barrage didn't even manage to get within a hundred feet of him, shrapnel bouncing off the ground and plinking harmlessly off his azure armor. His right buster had converted back into a hand, protecting his sensitive optics from debris.

It happened fast enough that it shouldn't have. Yet there he stood. He'd shot down all ten missiles before they were even a threat to him, and over half of them he hadn't even been facing when he neutralized them. Just like that.

Hilde didn't have time to cast further doubt on the spectacle she'd witnessed. Still in mid-fall, she twisted herself around to face another Blader, throwing her beam saber as hard and fast as she could, lodging it in what her systems designated to be the ammunition feed for the heavy chain gun on its chin, watching the ammunition inside begin to cook off as the raw plasma superheated everything it came in contact with. The saber sank towards the ground below, melting its way through everything in the blade's path, just as a massive super shot engulfed it and the rest of the mechaniloid.

All around them, Hilde could hear the chain guns spinning up. Joining that, the roar of X's buster gathering another charge.

Her feet contacted the ground in the next moment, off balance, but she went with the fall as it happened, firing her dash thrusters, speeding along the tarmac, her back a foot above it.

_New target-_

Took aim, her own buster primed, ready-

Blotted away before she could even will the trigger to be pulled, another kill for X. She switched targets, found Threat Four, knocking it out of the sky with her own snapshot.

_One more._

She regained her balance, sliding to a halt and standing upright as she sighted in on the fifth and last of the group that had tried to surround them. X was faster again, the charged plasma boring its way through the Blader from front to back, leaving a tunnel of molten vital components clean through it. Hilde's own blast was merely an afterword, setting off ammunition that survived X's wrath.

"Help your man," X said, voice calm, his expression almost serene. "I'll keep watch over Zero."

_Just like that._

X raced toward his wounded friend, leaving Hilde wondering what exactly inside the Hunter had snapped, because as far as she was concerned, he was nowhere near a B class.

* * *

Kindle and the rest of Bravo team had moved their wounded commander to the the safety of a hardened aircraft bunker that had not taken any serious hits. Refusing to leave the battlefield, Erebus insisted that his ruined leg be replaced on site. Hypatia had transported herself and the necessary replacement limb to Gangjeong seemingly without any trepidation about the whole matter. Replacing the leg of a reploid, in particular the Captain's, was already a challenge under less stressful circumstances. He required very specific parts for maintenance, parts that were only used specifically by the US military. Doing such an operation while potentially under fire might have rattled other physicians, human or reploid.

Not this one. She had faith in her guards.

"Won't take but ten, fifteen minutes at most to ensure proper connections," Hypatia promised upon her inspection of the damaged limb. She was on track to meet that estimate.

Erebus hadn't spoken much since the rest of Vanguard had arrived in tow of the Maverick Hunters, limiting his debriefing with Lenneth to simple one or two word responses over a private link, nods or shakes of his head. Initially she'd pressed for more out of the man, but soon relied on his data recording of the whole incident thus far, ultimately only questioning him at length about the conversation he'd had with Maverick he'd bested, a conversation she alone was privy to the whole truth of.

She was worried for him.

_"Captain Erebus. You're not quite over your days as a comrade of these Mavericks."_ She stated the obvious over their private link.

_"Hard to be, considering."_

_They actually admitted that SKYLIGHT is their objective,_ she thought in disbelief. Not necessarily due to the nature of said objective currently in geosynchronous orbit over the Earth, staffed by thousands of reploid and human workers attempting to restore it in the wake of the Repliforce rebellion. They were just some of many obstacles to overcome, and RSF reploids were taught to look at obstacles as things _meant_ to be overcome. It did not matter how long it would take. The question was when it would be done.

The RSF battalions had once shared a simple motto: 'Nihil impossibile est.' Nothing is impossible. They were built to think 'If it exists, it can be infiltrated, assaulted, overrun, captured, or destroyed.'

Lenneth was honestly more surprised that they'd had the confidence to reveal this, even their means of transport, than she was about the nature of their mission. It made sense to her based on available information, and it made everything up until now basic probing actions. Which meant they were far enough along in their plan that secrecy no longer mattered. Or it could have been another feint. These were all possibilities that she, and likely Erebus, were factoring into their own response.

With Sigma 'confirmed' dead in his most recent crusade against humanity, possibly the only known active Mavericks in the world that could make a successfully plan and execute something so audacious would have to be Special Forces types. Being one of those specialized machines gave Lenneth a unique understanding of the enemy. She, like Erebus, knew how they operated on a mental level. As she continued Erebus' debrief, she was putting together in her mind how she would try to take SKYLIGHT, what forces she'd need to field, the methods she'd use to neutralize the various defenses she knew about the orbital weapon. It was in her nature, as a Command-Class reploid, to work out potential missions in her mind. It kept her mentally busy and sharp, and it gave her a broad range of scenarios to work with, to prepare for.

Just in case. Just like, she imagined, Nike and her fellow commanders had long before they turned Maverick.

_"You should not feel responsible for their actions."_

_"My unit, my responsibility."_

_"This is moving well beyond the projected scope of this Vanguard, Erebus."_ She shook her head, an odd gesture to those who might have been observing the two. Their conversation had been carried out in silence, with little in the way of gestures between them.

_"It is, but not entirely unexpected, considering who we are dealing with."_

_"Have you reported any of this to the government? To the GDC?"_

_"Not yet."_

_"It seems like something that should be done immediately." _Lenneth decided she would likely never hear from him directly what went on in that brain of his.

_"There is information I want to take into account before I do a proper report. To that end, I'm going to Moscow after I am cleared to go by Hypatia."_

_"Are you now?" _Anger flashed across Lenneth's face, her eyes locked firmly onto his.

_"I have a hunch. You're not invited. Someone has to command Vanguard while I'm away."_

_"Still unable to keep that promise about secrets."_ She had made sure to remove the question out of the statement. It was an accusation. Yes, he had lied to her once before, and he'd done it again.

_"My former comrades intend to spark a war between superpowers and possibly hijack the most powerful orbital weapon platform to date. I'm sorry if my breaking our little pinky swear is upsetting you."_

_"Captain, you brought me and my people into this, but we can't help you to the best of our ability if you don't let us."_

_"You're doing your part right now, as far as I'm concerned, that's enough. If it were your people you were hunting down, perhaps you'd understand."_

_"Is Vanguard only a means to this end?"_

_"Yes." _His reply came without hesitation. _"The destruction of Mavericks the Hunters or the government are unable to handle expediently themselves."_

_"But deceiving your own people, ignoring the authorities-"_

_"There's only one authority whose attention I want right now. I'll need your support in that regard, but I don't need your lectures."_

Giving him one last look of disappointment, Lenneth stood up and stalked away, severing their link.

The truth was, Erebus appreciated having Lenneth around to remind him of small obligations such as that. She probably deserved better than a fellow commander like him, even sympathized with her plight. Once upon a time, Erebus was in her place, dealing with the unorthodox methodology of old friends now Maverick.

"Something wrong, Captain?" Hypatia's voice cut into his memories, oblivious to the actual conversation. "I'm asking if you could move the new leg to begin some testing."

"Sure sure. A bit distracted, sorry."

**Seogwipo**

**1:19 PM**

At first, the warp-rain of Hunters into the city Vile was helping ravage had been a distracting, but beautiful sight. He even had taken to hunting down isolated, land-bound pairs of the bastards. The _Rubicon_'s rampage had been enough to keep his activities in relative secret, and he'd claimed eight more Hunters (maybe seven, he amended, remembering that one had retained the ability to scream in fear and agony when he'd punched her through several abandoned cars and into a bus, her voice had abruptly cut away in a electronic gurgle that he had replayed at least a dozen times in his mind now but somehow she seemed like a fighter so he couldn't count her as dead for sure but man oh man he wanted to go back and check and maybe check back on that one crazy dragon guy with the wing funnels now he was a real trick) since the reinforcement waves had begun.

But now, Vile was on the run. The Goliath that encompassed him in the safety of the best armor he could steal was starting to fail him. He could try to return to the _Rubicon_ but that would likely have him getting picked off by the fliers in the 21st Unit, and that didn't appeal to him. Warping back to the ship was out, the ship was protected via a localized EM barrier he could not lower without allowing Hunters on board as well. He wanted to delay that for a little longer, if possible.

So he ran, and part of him was quite upset with this. The other part was also very upset, but it had found something to help both halves agree that the glass was indeed half full at the moment. Having tapped into the less secure 'primary net' the Hunters used for basic communication, he'd learned that the 21st Lightning Strike unit had come all the way from New York along with a very special group of friends known as the 17th Maverick Hunter unit, who at present were in NAS Gangjeong finishing up business. Which meant one very important thing.

"X! X! X! X X X X X X X! X!" Vile shouted, crashing his way through hastily erected barricades the civilian police were using to try and direct fleeing civilians. He felt much like one of the extinct cheetahs of the natural world he'd once read up about on a whim, the 'gazelles' fleeing in every direction around him, deliberately picking one terrified face at a time amongst the crowd for death.

"X!" He exclaimed, burying the right fist of his armor into a military APC, the pile driver working its magic, sending the heavy vehicle flying a short distance, tumbling over cars and people with equal ease. The world spun around him as batted aside anything unfortunate enough to be in range of the limbs of the Goliath. The hundreds of pings of small arms fired bouncing off the mecha echoed inside the cockpit, the occasional heavier clang of a mag-weapon shearing away larger chunks of armor ringing out. His victims were not entirely helpless, they could, eventually, disable the ride armor. Eventually. They'd have to suffer first before getting that far, and Vile enjoyed both knowing and ensuring that.

The more analytical part of him thought it was quite a shame that the earlier ambush from the Hunter (he'd now confirmed him to be Cirrus Tyber via intercepted radio traffic) had robbed him of so much of the nastier pieces of kit on the machine. That part of his mind was still just as placated as the other side by the reploid and human blood that had spattered across the ride armor haphazardly, covering one of the primary view cameras in deep red and purple. He felt good, he was still making do.

At any rate, it wasn't as though he needed the thing for much longer, considering where he was going.

Willing one last command to the Goliath, the chest canopy popped wide open, noting the sudden slackening fire from the local troops and cops as they got a good look at him. He stood proudly from the cockpit, a timer counting down from ten filling part of his vision, a map with new warp coordinates filling the rest.

"You've done your duty, good citizens," Vile announced in Korean. "Why don't you all take the rest of the day off?"

As he vanished in warplight, another light built up from within the Goliath, the last thing many of the surviving soldiers around it would see of his parting gift for the defenders of Seogwipo.

* * *

Gavin's 21st Unit was finally starting to see some real success in the fight to neutralize the assault carrier. Among the first units to arrive and relieve the beleaguered 58th, they'd taken up a close-in air support role, Jad in command of that mission. Other units from New Tokyo and New York found themselves in civil defense roles, killing what slipped away from the 21st while reinforcing the Korean military and police.

The carrier's response was to disgorge more ride armors from it's cavernous bays, far more than Gavin assumed was actually possible for it to carry. He believed it was probably warping in replacements from the facility it had originally been docked at. If they wanted to stop the flow of ride armors into Seogwipo, the carrier had to be neutralized along with the source of those weapons.

He'd dedicated fully half of his teams to finding a way to breach the carrier's defenses, Doan and Kol alongside him in leading the attacks on the ship proper. It had guns to spare, but the 21st excelled at hit and run tactics. Doan was saying that they'd have access inside within minutes at this rate.

Gavin flew as fast and as low as his flight armor allowed, meaning to loop back around to take shots on the main engines of the ship. The flight path it was taking was completely erratic, and was threatening taller office and apartment structures. Taking out the primaries on that thing would slow it to a crawl, only able to maneuver via manipulation of repulsor fields that allowed for such station keeping at this altitude. He gathered a buster charge, climbing hard, sighting the first of five targets he intended to hit, and accelerated.

_That's one._

The shot, in concert with a number of others from fellow Hunters, blew the engine nacelle apart, hot fragments tearing into it's neighbors. They sputtered from the damage, the ship shuddering from the crippling blow. In short order the 21st had almost halved the potential speed the carrier could gain during a sustained burn. Angry flames and thick smoke reached into the sky from the fresh wounds as the carrier began to slew heavily to its right.

_Or three,_ Gavin thought with a grim smile. He streaked past the destroyed target a two seconds later, easing out of his rapid climb, turning as hard as his flight armor allowed at this speed. He could see others in his element forming up alongside him as they wove through the relatively lighter point defense fire coming from the rear of the ship. A design flaw if there ever was one. Powerful engine nacelles such as these could push a mass like this easily, helping it 'cap the T' in a close ranged ship-to-ship battle faster than other carriers of its weight class.

The excess heat they generated during combat maneuvers, however, made even automated defenses difficult to place around that vulnerable rear quadrant. Missiles could take wild intercept arcs from launchers mounted further forward, but Gavin and his comrades were reploids, more specifically, Hunters who specialized in aerial warfare. Missiles they could track, intercept, and evade with comparative ease.

Abruptly, warning displayed filled his HUD.

_"Commander Gavin, this is Solar Falcon, attached to 0 Unit." _The new Hunter said over the tacnet, sounding exhausted. _"You're in my line of fire."_

A burst of data entered Gavin's mind, describing an impending directed energy attack from the direction of Mount Hallasan, an attack he and six of his men were in the path of.

_What the hell,_ Gavin thought.

_"Some of my kind were built to defeat proper air superiority fighters and drones,"_ Falcon explained, sensing the disbelief in the Hunters he was transmitting the warning to. _"Some of us were built with heavier targets targets in mind."_

Finding himself a vector that would take him outside of the projected path of the incoming strike, Gavin scanned the skies to see where Falcon was, locking onto a flashing point of light in the distance, visible over the many buildings of Seogwipo, framed by Mount Hallasan in the distance. Zooming in with his eyes, he could make out the figure of Solar Falcon, wings fully extended, buster pointed at the enemy. He could even see the plasma emitters on the wings alight, arms of energy gathering from them into the buster.

The light visibly expanded just as Gavin and the others cleared the danger zone, bright enough to force him to look away. A star blooming over the city, less than a mile away.

* * *

_"You've got to want it," _Hecatonchire had once told Falcon after a long day around SKYLIGHT.

Debris retrieval was one of the most important parts of space development, one of the least glamorous as well. Combat reploids like them excelled at it, able to see things humans couldn't, and take them out of their dangerous paths towards things valuable and fragile. It was hard work that humans alone could not hope to accomplish. When work on SKYLIGHT proper was finished by their team, Hecaton would lead the work crew on debris duty.

_"When your body is failing you, when the pain becomes too much to bear. When the world is crashing down around you. Some of our kind use that as excuse to simply give in, shut down, call it a day, nothing more we can do."_

_"These are the limitations of defeatists," _Hecaton had said, a bitterness in his voice that Falcon had never suspected of anything sinister._ "Human limitations. We were built to be surpass all that. It's why we're up here, doing what they can't."_

Falcon's left arm was still not functional, which promised to make things harder, but he was prepared to compensate for it. Ensuring he still had a good line of sight on his target, he descended to the roof of an office building, assumed as steady a firing stance as he could manage, and dug his feet into the roof up to his ankles. His wings spread wide once more as plasma from the mounted emitters channeled into a growing mass at the tip of his buster. He felt very hot, his cooling systems barely able to keep him within safe limits, his good arm beginning to sharply protest this second use.

The scene before him was of utter chaos. Beneath the carrier, the city was burning. Ruined buildings lay in its wake. Contrails corkscrewed across the sky, tracing back to launchers on the carrier itself, or produced by distant points of light, indicating the flight systems of members of the 21st. Everything that was and wasn't a target was marked in his vision, a complex puzzle of green, red, and yellow icons flitting about. Anti-aircraft artillery vectors were plotted based on shared telemetry between Hunters, updated almost constantly. Predictive systems showed all possible directions a given contact could take based on analysis of their movement systems, with percentage probabilities next to each given possibility. Only reploids could see the world in this way and make any sense of it.

He focused on the largest red one at the center of everything, holding his arm as steady as possible. His optics were capable of zooming in on a target the size of a credit card from this distance, though that wasn't necessary. He wanted to disable the remaining engines on the ship, hoping to blast a large enough breach in the hull that people could get on board and attempt to completely disable the ship. More importantly, capturing the Maverick vessel promised a treasure trove of intel the Hunters were desperate to have.

**Solar Plasmic Wave Cannon, charging complete**.**Ready to fire.**

"My body's more certain about this than I am," Falcon mused. "Alright Hecatonchire, hope you're watching, 'old friend'. You showed your resolve. Here's mine."

And so he fired.

* * *

The beam itself, while eight feet thick at peak strength, had not been so large that it had warranted the warning Falcon had broadcast to the Hunters by itself. His primary concern was that he'd be unable to control it, and he'd been partially right. The beam initially only clipped one of the wings of the carrier, then reached into the sky wildly before being brought back down towards its intended target.

Gavin watched it all unfold, a shocked expression frozen on his face. The beam shot, once back under control eventually carved a path along the rear armor plating, through two of the disabled engine nacelles, before finally finding purchase in one of the remaining thrusters. The entire rear quarter of the ship buckled from the sudden explosion that ensued, and still the beam kept going, chewing through internal decks hungrily until four seconds later, the beam fizzled out, leaving the scent of ozone thick in the air crackling with residual energy. The ship listed heavily to port, bleeding off speed rapidly without the primary thrusters to push it, floating entirely on repulsor lifts that still remained active.

It did not stop fighting back, but it had been wounded decisively. Gavin scanned the breech to the hull briefly, and made his decision, setting a course that would thread him through the proverbial eye of the needle and into the carrier.

"Doan, follow me in! Kol, the air battle is yours, concentrate on taking out those defenses!"

"I'm with you," Doan replied a second later. "That Falcon's turned out to be pretty convenient."

* * *

The roof of the structure forward of him had been blasted or melted away, and Falcon could see people who were still in their offices inside looking up at him through the cavernous gaps he'd created. He ignored their fear-filled gazes, concentrating on the battle in the distance. His body was still frozen in its firing stance, shaking from all the tension.

**Solar Plasmic Wave Cannon offline. One use remaining. Charge commencing. Update: Left arm nerve connections restored, running final diagnostics! Caution: Internal Operations Energy reduced below safety standards, Sub-Tank Two activated.**

_Just in time,_ Falcon thought bitterly. He'd managed to avoid putting the beam directly into the streets and into other civilian structures in the distance. Even so, he knew he'd almost waxed a couple friendlies before he got things under control. Not acceptable to him under any circumstances, but he'd have to try in this case.

_"Good shooting, Solar Falcon. The road is open."_ Gavin reported over the 'net a moment later.

_"Confirmed."_

_"Sub-Commander Jad could use another body to defend evacuation sites. Are you up to it? My diagnostics are telling me you could-"_

_"On my way,"_ Falcon cut Gavin off, knowing what was about to be said, and not particularly wanting a reminder of how he was feeling at the moment. Pulling his feet free of the rooftop, he willed his reluctant body to keep moving. He still had one more Sub-Tank to use, and he figured coming home after every assignment having drained them all would make for a grim yet amusing reputation to have.

**NAS Gangjeong**

"Major-General Bae Myung, your local airspace is secure," X reported over the Korean tactical network, his voice carrying a hint of pride with it.

"Excellent work, Hunter." Myung's compliment was sincere. Around him the operations room deep underneath NAS Gangjeong erupted with cheers from his subordinates until the General waved his hand to call for silence, to remain focused. The truth was that they still had work to do in the city, far more important work. The base could have fallen, and that still would not be as bad as what was happening in Seogwipo.

Communications techs had worked frantically throughout the course of the engagement to reestablish links to local defense units in the city, and had been successful enough to allow Myung and his fellow advisors to put together a nightmare patchwork idea of what was happening on the surface. They knew that the Mavericks had brought out a carrier and that it had been disabled. They knew that there'd been fighting throughout the city, sporadic reports of roughly heavy ride armors running wild, but the numbers kept fluctuating. The Hunters were claiming they'd all but stopped more armors from being deployed out of the carrier itself, meaning they had to be coming from somewhere else.

With Gangjeong secured, he could send anything still available into Seogwipo. That was priority, and he gave the necessary orders to get people moving.

"Commander X, I need your Hunters in the city to find where the ride armors are coming from. I can send the 6th Mechanized Infantry to assist you."

"Yes sir. Permission to make use of your maintenance facilities? I have wounded Hunters, and a physician who can make use of what you have."

"Granted, of course." The General replied, blinking with some surprise at how X had referred to his soldiers' conditions. 'Wounded'. Humans got wounded. Reploids got damaged. At least, that is how he thought it should go. Shouldn't he have said 'technician' as opposed to 'physician'?

"Is there anything else, sir?"

"Nothing." He'd left the line open on accident, and the Hunter's green eyes stared intently at him. "Go to it, Maverick Hunter X."

No sooner than he closed the line, one of the communications techs called out to the General.

"Sir, I just received word from a Civil Defense team that the Maverick Vile was last spotted warping out of Seogwipo after self destructing his ride armor. They've incurred serious casualties!"

_So, their leader's seen the writing on the wall, and he's fled,_ Myung thought. "Restore a connection with X, he will want to know." There was a moment's pause.

"Sir, I've lost outbound and inbound communications. I can't raise the Hunters."

"Try the 6th Mech."

"Sir, I've _lost all communications._" The tech, a young woman in her twenties, reiterated with a measure of exasperation and fear in her voice just as the sounds of explosions and gun fire filled the air, and the lights and monitors throughout the command center flickered.

Myung reached for his personal sidearm, happy to note that everyone else in the room did the same without needing to be told. He couldn't shake the thought that the pistol in his hand was truly only meant to be used against other humans. Against a Maverick, it was little more than comfort for the soul, and whatever was happening outside was definitely not being caused by a human.

They could hear the screams now, soldiers and desk jockeys alike falling before something monstrous, utterly malevolent. Heavy impacts shaking the walls, the sound of 60mm rifle mounted HE frag grenades being used indoors, a sign of desperation.

The technician, an Ensign Choi, could be seen shivering as she pulled up next to her General, her own sidearm still with the safety on as she aimed it at the main entrance to the room. Myung reached up and clicked off the safety.

"It'll help." He managed to smile

"Thank you, si-"

A much louder blast rocked the room, knocking him over and onto the tech as she screamed with fear. Rolling away from her, he looked up, and saw a menacing silhouette standing in the middle a new breach in the wall, a single glowing red eye visible behind a helmet visor. He was covered in blood from almost head to toe, giving him a odd gleam in the limited light available.

"I might have broken something on the way in," the figure spoke. "Don't get up, I'll fix it."

Gunfire chattered from his fingertips.

* * *

X and several others in the 17th unit had gathered there, having brought wounded Hunters and Vanguard with them. Despite the fighting, his appearance was relatively pristine compared to almost everyone else at the triage. To his right, a stone-faced Guernica carried the remains of a comrade. There was no telling how many more would join the sad looking half-corpse by the end of the day.

X did not waste time calling for everyone to gather at this one location, choosing to use the shared network between Hunters and Vanguard to get to the point quickly: Those who were still combat ready were to prepare to assist the 6th Mechanized in a drive from Gangjeong into the city, destroying all ride armors they came across, and attempt to prevent further incursions by cutting it off at the source if at all possible.

Only slightly scuffed for her troubles, Hilde stood triumphant over Zero, who now had the full attention of Hypatia. There were others in worse shape than Zero was at the moment, but they'd stabilized themselves by dropping into stasis. Zero had the benefit of what Hypatia was calling an 'aggressive' auto-repair system, making the physician's job that much easier.

"I can see why you invited me to join the Hunters back in September ." Hilde smirked. "Is this a regular thing for you?"

"Tends to happen when you're not showing up to fight after a more capable machine takes care of the real business," Zero fired back. He turned his attention to Zak, whose left arm had shifted out of its' weapon configuration and into a regular arm. He was helping his Captain up from his back, his new leg attached, internal systems recalibrating themselves to handle it. "Hell with you, the machine gun kid over there's more interesting a fighter than just another waitress-type."

"Heavily modified waitress-type," Hilde corrected. "I understand you _caught_ the second round?"

"Ayup."

"How much did those mods cost ya?"

"Oh no, that's a standard feature as it turns out." They both chuckled at that.

"You're moving. Please stop." Hypatia snapped at the Crimson Hunter, her hands still dancing along the wound through his torso, though she seemed to be doing very little actual work. She had a look of admiration on her. "You're spoiling the show."

"Howsthat?"

"You." Hypatia planted her left index finger on his lips in order to shush him. "You're a work of art, you know that right?" She nearly sighed with that. "Your internals are nothing like any reploid I've ever worked on. It's so...efficient. Different. There's nothing wasted."

"Well, I'm not like any reploid, really. No big deal." Zero rolled his eyes. "Am I gonna be able to-"

"Yes. I applied standard nano-colony injections to the synth-nerves throughout your body, all rejected. Your body's auto-repair systems know what needs priority repairs to keep you up and running and is surprisingly aggressive towards external interference, all I've had to do was basically clean up 'dead' material that isn't making connections. Another twenty minutes, you'll likely be able to walk again like there was nothing wrong in the first place. Maybe less?" She blushed as she looked up to him. "Uh...I can do the, ah, surface work, if you'd like. That's something your systems can't do without assistance."

"Yeah, I suppose I can't walk around exposed like this. I've been worse off, though. Think you can make it quick?"

"Oh yeah." Hypatia looked up at Hilde, mock fanning herself and mouthing _He's so amazing, I want to __do repairs to him all day._

"I'll leave you two alone," Hilde gestured towards Erebus. "I think we're about to have a little meeting."

Zero waved at her as she trotted off. He thought he might have heard Hypatia giggle, but didn't think more of it.

* * *

"I'm leaving for Moscow as soon as I'm done with this chat so I'll keep it short," Erebus said, nodding at Hilde as she walked up to the group. He was also transmitting his speech over Vanguard's private network. Those who'd been left behind in Los Angeles could also hear it.

"The reason I am leaving is to verify data I received from the Maverick I killed. Lenneth is now in command of Vanguard until I return, Hilde is her second." He paused to gauge the responses of those actually before him, mostly surprise.

_What did I miss not being here from the get go?_ Hilde asked herself. She looked to Kindle, for any hints, but his face was difficult to read. He only shrugged, as uninformed as she was.

"Said Maverick was a former comrade of mine," Erebus continued, "a member of the 2nd RSF. We all remember them, and what they've done. According to official records, fifty reploids refused to surrender at Arcology Two South once their commander had fallen, choosing to warp despite an active EM barrier. In reality, closer to ninety were never accounted for, including their new leader Nike. She's been leading their activities around the world since then, starting with her appearance at MHHQ New Tokyo in October. I have data that suggests they are responsible for the recent attack on the Russian energen refinery, a Chinese equivalent near Beijing, and the presence of their man here today suggests they had a hand in this. Which means they are working with Vile. The implications of that should be obvious."

"Their goals are two-fold: Instigate war between a GDC Member State and an 'Unaligned' state, and to hijack the orbital weapon SKYLIGHT. This should sound somewhat familiar, Repliforce tried the same back in 2129. I suspect it may be too late to stop the former, I am working out solutions to the latter."

"You're serious," Kindle said.

"Absolutely. The Maverick claimed they are currently based out of a submarine, location unknown. I need to use my data record to prove this to the Russians and the Chinese, it takes absolute precedence over everything. Even this situation on Jeju-Do. This is a feint, an expensive and bloody feint. I don't believe they are fully responsible for this attack. They'd have more people here. It's likely this would have gone down even without Nike's contribution, it just doesn't fit her MO."

"Captain, even if you-" Lenneth began to protest.

"There we are Lenneth," Erebus said with a smile. "No more secrets."

"Even if you personally present this same scenario to the Russians, you're relying entirely on luck to actually convince them to stand down!" Lenneth said. "Not to mention the Chinese, do you really believe they'd listen to a reploid built by the United States?"

"I am not all of Vanguard. One reploid isn't going to make a difference here today, and it's true that one reploid may not make a difference for Russia or China. However, this city is already being ruined, this base is no longer near operational, we can't change that. We have to salvage what we can. We have to at least try." The Captain's frame began to glow as his warp generator activated. "But I suppose you're right, we'll all need some good luck."

And then he was gone in a trail of silver light, arcing towards the northeast. Lenneth clenched her fists, mouth moving silently, cursing the man. She then took the virtual podium over the Vanguard network.

"Our orders are clear. I will lead Vanguard into Seogwipo to assist suppression of Maverick elements. We move out in two minutes." Breaking her network connection, she marched briskly towards Hilde, who was still somewhat dazed by the revelations she'd heard.

"You're my second in command, are you ready for it?"

"As long as you don't make it a habit to dump that kinda stuff on me at the last second, I think I am."

"I'll try," the former general half-smiled.

* * *

X had stopped next to Zero just as Hypatia had gotten to work on placing a new patch of synthskin over the hole on his stomach. It wasn't armored plating, but modern synthskin for combat reploids was a hybrid of carbon fiber, reactive memory alloys, and a dozen other classified materials that would act to slow or stop kinetic weapons and resist extreme temperature environments. It had limits, but its advantage was its flexibility, its ability to look, feel and act similar to human flesh. The 'patch' integrated itself with Zero's frame without complications. It wouldn't be as good as a full

"Doc's giving me a clean bill of health, X. I'll be up and doing your job for you in no time."

"Will you now?" X asked. "Don't give the nice lady any trouble now."

"I've been nice!"

"Oh yes you have," Hypatia barely whispered, still transfixed by what she was examining. "Flip over, I need to work on your back."

"Right-o."

"I'm going to confirm if General Myung wants us to walk his people into the fight, or if we can just dive right in," X said. "Erebus is cutting Vanguard loose, I think we should do the same."

"That's uncharacteristically aggressive of you." Zero noted

"Vile's somewhere in Seogwipo." That was enough of an explanation for the Crimson Hunter.

X reopened communications with General Myung, somewhat surprised by the delay before the link was established. The camera feed showed nothing at first. Some smoke in the air, likely from damaged electronics in the bunker. Some of the Mitsubatchi had been armed with bunker busters, though it was odd to X that he hadn't noticed the damage on his last communication with the officer-

"Hey there, sport. We were all waiting for you to call down here." Vile's voice was filled with gleeful menace, his helmet suddenly taking up the entire display.

* * *

"And then you say 'When did you get there?' with a sour look in your eye, well maybe not sour, maybe angry? Maybe you're about to cry? Like this lady I killed here, I forget her name. She was an ensign I think? Hard to read her name tag when there's so much blood on the uniform. It seeps in, gets all dark. Twenty something, dark hair, light complexion. Might have been attractive at some point, nothing that stood out from the crowd but you know what I mean. Not so much anymore. Missing too much of, well, everything." He poked at the corpse with his left foot. "High-pitched, bet she was a helluva karaoke singer after hours. Whatever!"

Vile held General Myung in a headlock, dragging him around effortlessly, bashing him against workstations as though by accident. The cameras transmitting the image to X followed him precisely, a simple wireless hack on his part.

"You can talk back any time, X. 'WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO TO THOSE PEOPLE?' Come on, something!...no? Nothing?"

"Vile-"

"I came here because of you, X. See, I wanted to ask you something, I kinda need your help. I lost something on the way here." He laughed at this, a harsh, forced sound. "I wasted a lot of good ammunition to get into this place, if there's anything humans are good at, its hunkering down and waiting to die. You, uh, do know where here is, don't you? Where I'm transmitting from? I couldn't warp in myself directly, so I had to fight my way through a few dozen people. Fight is a strong word, now that I think about it. Disappointed you didn't take notice, actually! Aaaaaaaaanyway, they have an EM barrier protecting the bunker proper, but this here General Myung might be able to disable that. Be nice of him if he did, I don't think you could take seeing what I did to these people breaking in here the hard way, and I kinda wanna get this shit started." He released the Myung from the headlock, grabbing onto the General's head with both hands, squeezing until he moaned in agony. "You'll DO THAT, WON'T YOU? HE'S A MAVERICK HUNTER, HE NEEDS YOU TO HELP HIM SAVE YOU." He shook the man violently with each word for emphasis.

Myung said nothing, only managing to gasp for air through the pain.

"Seems he wants you to walk in the old fashioned way. Cruel man, this one." Vile dropped Myung to the ground, and gestured to the room around him. "I need you to come down here, X. Alone. It's a personal question, I don't want any of your friends to hear it. To ensure that, I have hostages. I dunno how many, some of 'em probably aren't gonna last too much longer. Fires burning, smoke in the air, asphyxiation, some of them might bleed out...you probably should hurry."

"I will be alone."

"Your ears _work, _that's a start! Maybe we can check to see if your buster still works, that'll be _exciting._"

"Vile..." X growled now, his face on the monitor absolutely cold. "I don't know what it is you want. I promise you that you'll never see it." He was replaced by static a moment later. The room had fallen mostly silent, save for the breathing of the hostages, the occasional moans from the injured and dying, and the intermittent, broken hum of electronics. Vile sighed, still staring at the wall screen.

"He's almost perfect, when he talks like that," he said quietly. "I hate him so goddamned much."

* * *

Zero had only heard X's half of the conversation, but he knew from watching his friend that buttons were being pushed. His jaw was so tightly clenched his face shook, his fists creaking from the pressure he was putting on the joints.

"Zero..." X began, his voice almost breaking. "He's here. Vile is here. Now. He's-"

"Hypatia can you work faster? We've got a bit of a situation." The medic started to reply but a sharp look from X kept her silent.

"I have to go alone, Zero. He has hostages, he said if I bring anyone else he will kill them. That is unacceptable!"

"Those people will be dead by the time you arrive," Zero sighed. "You know that. It's like that old lady in the mall on the 7th."

"Don't you dare say that. _Don't you dare!_" His shout caught the attention of everyone else at the triage.

"This city is burning down X," Zero stood up, almost knocking a surprised Hypatia over as he did. "Prioritize! It's a trap, and anyone can see that! We have to save as many people as possible!"

"Don't try to stop me." X snarled, turning his back to Zero and sprinting off, nearly bowling through several Hunters as he went.

Zero watched him as he went, then cursed loudly, and tried to open a line to Erebus. X was going to need help, whether he believed it or not. Behind him he could hear Hypatia protesting for him to stay put, that she hadn't finished ensuring the new armor plating and synthskin patch on his back had been fully secured. His systems reported a moment later that contact could not be established with the reploid in question.

_He in stasis or what?_

Recalling the other Vanguard commander, Lenneth, he put in the call.

"Commander Zero? We're ready to move on Seogwipo now."

"We have a problem. Where's Erebus?"

"In Moscow, by now."

Zero blinked. "What?"

**Seogwipo**

_**Crossing the Rubicon**_** Command Deck**

**1:40 PM**

Doan and Gavin had moved cautiously, but quickly through the ship, the feeling that this was some sort of elaborate trap growing by the second. No automated defenses, no intruder alarms. Only the sounds of combat outside the hull, the continuous yet warbling tone of the fusion reactors providing power to the ship systems keeping everything afloat could be heard over their boots against the metal decks. Their first stop had been the loading bays, where they'd hoped to find evidence that ride armors were being sent to the ship via warp nodes, or at least being constructed on the spot, and found neither. The entire compliment of armors it once carried had been deployed, and there was no indication more would come. The bay doors were sealed tight, the electronic locking systems complete cut off from nearby network terminals.

The primary bridge had been destroyed earlier in the combat, but the vessel continued offering resistance, meaning they'd needed to access the ship AI directly. The layout to the armored carrier wasn't something they'd trained to deal with, but a quick dive into the 'Net provided the layouts to similar vessels in active military service. There were differences, but that was to be expected. The similarities were enough to make finding the second bridge deep inside the craft much easier.

It, like the rest of the carrier, was barren of defenses, left in such a state that it was almost inviting. It was spartan, untouched by the fighting. As soon as they'd burst into the room, performing their security sweep, the doors slid shut behind the pair, the locks remaining disengaged.

"This is a pretty elaborate for a trap," Doan muttered. "I'm calling this thing abandoned, the Mavericks don't need it anymore."

"Right." Gavin agreed with him, but wasn't about to complain. Things were a little hotter outside, but the ship was shaking less often as fewer defense systems remained to be picked off. "Lets hit the command terminal, dual-spike it, see what we can see."

The room was set up for a commander-class reploid to interface with a central 'bed', with a dozen other chairs situated at holographic displays in a half circle in front of it, all facing a massive, curved display that wrapped around the entire room. At the moment, it only displayed a dull blue color, but Gavin guessed that the combined efforts of cameras mounted across the hull of the ship could provide an extensive view.

"Looks like no-one has ever even used this place," Doan said as he approached the command bed. "I mean, factory seals are still on the data-jacks."

"Oh, that new car smell." Before Doan could protest, Gavin disengaged his flight armor pack, letting it fall to the deck, and jumped into the bed, picking at the seals himself while trying to settle in. Seeing Doan's almost bug-eyed expression, Gavin shrugged. "There's obviously a reason the ship made sure it could stay over the city. Jacking into its network is the fastest way to find that out. If we're really lucky, we can override the control systems at get it to allow its maneuvering thrusters to help get it out of the city airspace."

"And if Vile set this thing to upload the Virus into the first idiot to think of that?"

"Then you take this," Gavin said, grabbing Doan's buster and pointing it to face his own control chip crystal, "and you pull the trigger until it goes click."

"This is a pretty awful plan," Doan shook his head.

"I'm cutting myself off from the primary TacNet, just in case. Something happens, the 21st is yours."

Before Doan could respond, the bed locked Gavin into place, the various datajacks plugging into a series of ports Gavin had opened along the length of his body. His eyes darted about rapidly, as though he were reading text, or spotting targets closing in from the distance. A full minute passed, and the weapon fire abruptly stopped outside of the ship. A moment later, the main display came to life with a mostly complete view of the entire city, parts of the visuals blackened or filled with static as the cameras responsible were likely destroyed.

To Gavin, half of the world appeared as motes of light with interconnecting pathways, and the other half was that of the real world, not willing to sacrifice total awareness of his body's surroundings as he dove into the system. There was no indication of program defenses, no external illegal access warnings, no unauthorized program rewrite attempts. If anything, it was as if the gates were being opened specifically for him. At the center of this small universe, a sphere of gray hovered, the occasional pulse of data depicted as shockwaves that passed through his electronic avatar harmlessly.

"I'm in," Gavin stated.

"Confirming acting command terminal, Gavin, Maverick Hunter. Welcome to the _Crossing the __Rubicon._" The voice that came from every direction was pleasant, but thoroughly artificial. "I am this vessel's onboard AI, designated name 'Rubycakes'. Would you like a status update?"

"Humor me."

"Maneuvering severely limited due to loss of primary drive systems. Repulsor systems damaged, fields stable, altitude descent at three feet per hour based on current conditions. Reactor vessel two damaged, breach indicated, coolant leak confirmed. Reactor temperatures rising to unsafe levels. Extensive hull breach detected in rear compartments, decks three through six. Primary bridge no longer responding to diagnostic scans. Warp Network connections severed per final orders of previous commander. Combat capabilities rated at sixty percent and falling."

"Previous commander? What were the full extent of his orders?"

"Lord Former-Commander Vile's orders were continue attacks on civilian targets throughout Seogwipo in his absence, and for this AI to coordinate unmanned Ride Armors being warped into the the theater of operations. Upon receiving final code confirmation, this AI is to shut off all propulsion systems and crash into the city, and allow both reactors to lose stability and force core meltdowns. After specific conditions are met, this AI is to self destruct _Crossing the Rubicon_ in order to maximize kill potential on hostile targets. Should I be infiltrated before completing my mission, I am to leave infiltrators uninfected by the Virus." Rubycakes paused, as though to allow this all to sink in. "Report complete, acting commander."

"Oh my," was all Doan could manage.

Gavin's voice shook when he found it again. "Rubycakes, is it possible to cancel previous orders?"

"Amusing request." There was mirth in the reply, and Gavin was unsure if it was merely a programed response, or if it was genuine. "Reasoning follows. Conflict with First Law: Destroy. Conflict with Second Law: Infect. Conflict with Third Law: Survive." Rubycakes repeated this once more before falling silent, her voice the same sing-song yet lifeless presence as before. A mantra that all Hunters had heard before, but few as intimately as those who'd faced the Virus themselves, had fought it off or embraced everything it was.

"If you destroy this ship, you will not survive."

"Incorrect. Physical survival impossible, electronic data back up disallowed. Survival in memory of others considered satisfactory for meeting Third Law. Parts of Seogwipo will be immediately uninhabitable by humans for decades. Through the memory of my actions, I will survive. Survival condition met." Rubycakes sounded almost elated to have come to this conclusion.

_That's hard to argue with,_ Gavin thought.

"Message follows." Rubycakes announced.

The screens faded back into their dull blue once more, save for the very center of the displays facing Gavin and Doan. A familiar helmeted reploid in his sickly green and brown tones stared at them, unreadable, implacable.

"I don't know who you are, and I don't care. I'm probably too busy right now to tell you this in real time, but I want you to know something. Something I already knew days before. I knew you wouldn't be able to stop this. I knew you'd try, a good ol' college try. If you're seeing this now, you already know the most important thing." He pressed closer against the camera recording the message, close enough that behind the darkened visor the Hunters could see a single glowing red eye, twitching ever so slightly.

"I win. _We win._"

Gavin tore himself out of the command bed, his armor re-equipped in a flash, his buster formed and primed, unleashing his impotent fury against the displays.

"Damnit, DAMNIT!"

"Gav, we need to get out of here. I tried to access the TacNet, but I'm being jammed." Doan spoke urgently. "We're the only ones that know."

Rubycakes did not see fit to lock them in the command center. She wanted them to escape, or at least she wanted them to try. They ran as fast as their legs could take them, through doors if they didn't open fast enough.

"Gav, we find the AI core, we can slag it, one of us takes the command chair and we act as the primary control unit for the ship," Doan suggested.

"Do you know where it is?"

"Good point, no I don't."

"When we flew in here, there was roughly fifty thousand civilians still confirmed to be within the carrier's striking distance," Gavin said as he kicked through another set of doors. "Vile's right, we can't stop this, but we can help get those people out of here."

**NAS Gangjeong**

Mega Man X warped in as close to Vile's known location as possible, using blueprints he'd downloaded from a secure network to find potential holes the localized EM barriers. Designed to keep warp-capable threats from easily bypassing layers of physical security to decapitate the command staff, they now hindered his rescue effort. He could feel his focus wavering with each step he took through the passages beneath the the base surface. The signs of violent struggle whipped past him, yet his eyes could make out every gruesome detail. Human bodies in various states littered a security checkpoint, some in more pieces than others. He could see where heavy plasma fire had bored through wall-plating and into the concrete behind it, tell where humans had once stood, firing futilely at their slayer.

He'd yet to pass a single survivor.

It only got worse the deeper he went, the walls cratered by things and people thrown into them at high speed. Flames roared out of a side room, fed by something more flammable than oxygen alone. A makeshift barricade consisting of a toppled over couch cushion and a desk was split in half obviously by plasma, with six dead men and a woman piled behind it.

Through it all, his HUD had been given access to the Korean TacNet, and dozens of small files littered his view, a name and a KIA symbol next to them. After a few seconds, he shut it off, sick at heart, and marched forward that much faster.

It looked like chaos, but X knew better. There was nothing actually chaotic about any of this.

Vile had done all this deliberately. He wanted X angry, upset. Not because he wouldn't be thinking straight. If anything, those things had only focused X on his objectives more than ever.

Vile wanted more than just a fight. He wanted X to burn and battle with the same hatreds he did, to fight without reservation. To kill or be killed.

As X approached the blown out wall leading to the location Vile had been transmitting from, he contemplated how he would give him all that, and more.

**Seogwipo airspace**

**1:47 PM**

DARKSTAR, or Mist, as she usually went by, disliked her role of aerial reconnaissance at times, if only because it kept her far enough away that she could not sweep in herself to assist, and she'd had experience watching things happen on the world far below her that she wanted so very badly to prevent. Fortunately, that had yet to repeat itself on this Korean island today. Twenty thousand feet below, the city spread out beneath her, and at its center the battle raged around the air carrier. Fires could be seen here and there, tracer fire, smoke trails, and she was tracking and recording all of it. She also provided tactical support, allowing Hunters and Vanguard to use the same nets to exchange valuable information in real time.

It seemed as though things were finally winding down. Through her wing-mounted camera pods, she'd finally been able to locate where the ride armors had been reinforcing from, a trio of subway entrances that were scattered far enough apart that they'd forced the Hunters to spread their own numbers thin in trying to contain them. It was this part of her role she enjoyed most, giving accurate information to her allies on the ground so that they could advance, flank, and destroy the enemy.

Chatter over the net, which had started out notably tense, was growing more relaxed as the carrier was rapidly made toothless. She was impressed with the Hunters' ability to fight such large scale battles.

She switched to her thermal vision at regular intervals, to help direct Hunters towards civilians who were trapped too close to the combat area. With Vanguard finally moving on the city, she was going to be busier, but that would keep her mind off the fact that she wasn't actually in the fight proper.

_Wait a sec._

It was slight, but she swore that on this recent thermal sweep, the nearly disabled carrier looked hotter than before.

_Self-destruct system? Internal fires?_

The source of this anomaly was centered away from the ruined main nacelles. Any combustibles within those engines had mostly burned themselves out, leaving only the husks of machinery to smolder in the air, leaving a pall of black smoke. They were not as hot at whatever it was within the ship.

She cross referenced what she knew of air carriers of this class, and bringing up a report of the _Death Rogumer_, once Sigma's flagship, and she noted the similarities in the hull lines, if not necessarily the size. But, if the ship was internally consistent with the general design the _Rogumer_ had followed...

The main reactors were likely the source of the heat build up.

As far as Mist knew, there were a pair of Hunters on board, attempting to disable the ship from within. Perhaps something had gone wrong inside the ship, they had tripped some sort of automated system and were cut down, perhaps a fire caused by the battle damage had reached the reactors and was threatening containment of the fuel within-

"DARKSTAR, DARKSTAR!" a voice shouted over the primary net, just as two friendly icons flew out of the carrier, one of whom was marked as Commander Gavin of the 21st. "Transmit this message, highest priority, all frequencies! Maverick vessel is undergoing a forced core meltdown of both reactors, immediate evacuation of surrounding area within twenty square miles of the vessel requested! Ship is set to self destruct upon remote command of the Maverick known as Vile!"

"Say again, Two-One lead?" Lenneth asked over the comm net.

"The whole goddamn ship is a dirty bomb!" Gavin roared, the difference in communications discipline amusing to DARKSTAR. "All Hunter units, find as many civilians as you can and get them as far away from that ship as you can, coordinate with local military and law enforcement!"

Things began to happen very fast.

* * *

The Korean government had experience with nuclear disaster, in the wake of the 2040's and the 2090's many nations had become well acquainted with a proper response. A distressingly popular tactic among terrorists during those years had been to strike nuclear power generation facilities in hopes of forcing a full meltdown, thereby poisoning the surrounding environment. One of the most famous incidents occurred within the United States in 2093. A high grade explosive completely destroyed a reactor north of Dallas, Texas after a meltdown, flinging radioactive material a much greater distance than if the radiation had been allowed to spread naturally.

Jeju-do, despite many artificial expansions, remained a small island off the southern Korean coast. There was little room for people to run in the event of something like this, not enough boats for people to escape on, not enough flights off the island, and the situation was as such that most people in Seogwipo weren't going to get the warning until it was possibly too late.

Emergency meetings were gathered, and requests for assistance were sent out to Japan and China, almost formalities at best. Government officials prepared themselves to face the real possibility that they were going to have many citizens dead at their feet, and there had been nothing in place to prevent that.

**NAS Gangjeong**

X crossed through the broken wall into what appeared to be the primary command bunker of the entire base, his buster at the ready, his eyes quickly darting about in anticipation of an ambush that never came.

Sitting atop what was left of a bank of servers at the center of the room was Vile, the battered General Myung positioned on his lap as though he were a child. His breathing was sharp, and he was nursing his right side as best he could, wincing with each breath. Clapping loudly, Vile cheered as the Azure Hunter approached.

"You made it. Congratulations!"

X said nothing. Seeing the hostage did not force him to lower his weapon, keeping it trained on Vile. Pushing the human off of his lap, he watched as he hit the floor with a groan.

"He has three broken ribs, if you're curious X. I did that, it was easy!" Vile explained. "You made good time. Only three hostages bled out." He dropped down to the floor, taking several cautious steps towards the Hunter. "I said I was gonna ask you something, wasn't I? Here goes." The fingers of his right hand straightened out, revealing the light machine barrels within them. "Last time we saw each other in person, I had something with me, someone. An old lady. You remember her, don't you? Funniest thing. I have no idea where I might have dropped her on the way to this little island. Any ideas?"

Restraint left X in a rush, as he barreled toward Vile, a strangled cry of rage escaping his lips backed by the sound of Vile laughing madly, beckoning him onward. Unable or unwilling to use his buster, X resorted to a vicious hammer blow that struck the Maverick on the side of his head, batting him aside and through a series of control panels before he rolled to a halt, still laughing in spite of the huge dent on his helmet. While still prone, he flung a series of bomblets in the air where he assumed X and the general were, still laughing as he watched the Blue Bomber intercept each explosive with precise plasma fire as he advanced. Unfazed, Vile sat up to allow his shoulder-mounted plasma cannon to swivel into place, firing a snap shot the Hunter leapt neatly over.

"Nice." Vile whistled, pointing both hands at X, unleashing a short barrage of machine gun fire and lining up a second plasma cannon-

And then X was on him, another primal scream erupting from his throat as he leapt at Vile, intent on pinning him down and raining more blows to his head. Batting the both arms aside, stray gunfire chewed through the surroundings, causing more panic among the hostages. The shoulder cannon glowed ominously just before it too was kicked out of alignment, discharging harmlessly into the roof, just inches away from X's face as he leaned aside. He stomped down on the weapon with his left foot, and lit off dash thruster into the whole assembly, ruining it, and then lifting Vile off the ground by the throat before slamming him back down with such force that Vile could feel the ground beneath him give way. Using his buster as a bludgeon, X struck the Maverick several more times on the head, mangling the helmet before being kicked away across a good distance of the room.

"I promise I'll end you." X snarled, landing on his feet and sprinting back towards the Maverick...who laid in place, laughing even harder than before.

"Thanks for that, I think I remember everything now. Atoms, that's all she is, X, atoms-"

X charged back in, another vicious strike cutting off the Maverick. Picking Vile up by the neck, he leveled the buster at his head, and prepared a killing strike.

"At this range, no hostage is at risk. You're finished, you bastard."

"Careful there, X ol' buddy. I'm trying to find her. She's around here somewhere. Is she there?" He reached out with one hand at nothing. "Or there?" With sudden strength, Vile broke free of X's grip with another kick, clipping the Hunter in the chin just as the charged plasma loosed from the cannon, melting though a series of monitors and part of the roof, filling the air with the overpowering scent of ozone. Hostages who could still move scrambled as far away from the pair as possible.

Staggering back a several steps from the kick, X shook his head, HUD scrambled from the attack, and Vile bullcharged into him shoulder first, powering him through several desks and a bank of servers. His systems complained about stress tolerances to his armor, the final impact against something that didn't give way like everything else flashing actual breach warnings across his vision.

Vile stepped back, letting the Hunter fall unceremoniously on his rump, and knelt down next to him, lifting X's head up by his chin.

"X, I want to tell you something else. I'm really thrilled to tell you this, so listen to me."

The Hunter burst forward from his sitting position, trying to get his hands around Vile's neck, only to be lifted up and over in one swift motion by one of his outstretched arms, slammed down with incredible force. Twisting in pain and in desperation to get back to his feet, X pushed himself off the ground with his free arm, only to feel another violent impact to back of his head and a terrible wrenching sensation in his right shoulder.

**Dislocation: Right Shoulder, mobility loss confirmed, artificial nerve endings severed from neural network. Armor breech: Rear Body armor plate. IOE at 78 percent. Advise caution.**

His helmet had been kicked free, clattering against the cool metal floors as it went, revealing his untamed mop of brown hair. A suitable handhold of Vile, who grabbed onto it fiercely and slammed X again into the wall. He kicked X in the stomach, then rammed into him again shoulder first, effectively pinning him in place, with little leverage to struggle against the larger Maverick.

"I said LISTEN TO ME," Vile roared. "It's important. You don't know this, you've been down here while shit on the surface has just been rolling down hill. That carrier of mine is rigged to self destruct, and I hold the trigger. Her reactors are going critical any moment now. Better than any old dirty bomb, wouldn't you agree?"

X's eyes narrowed, and once again brought up a buster, this one on his left arm, and built up a charge., resting the barrel of the weapon against Vile's chest.

"If that's true, I can't stop you doing that, can I?"

"Put that thing away, you'll kill a hostage. Fry that general a few server racks behind me. Why do you think I brought you specifically here? We both know you can't do it, you won't kill a human life to save one."

X only continued to build up the plasma charge, his expression almost lifeless.

"Or can you?" Vile asked. "Can you do it? Will you do it? Come on kiddo." The giddiness seemingly poured out from behind the ruined helmet, that single red eye glowing fiercely. Reaching down to his waist, Vile lifted up a small remote trigger, a thumb teasing a red button atop it. "I don't get it, X. Hero. Savior. Real Japanese badass, that's what you are. How many have you retired? How many will you? And you always do it with such a look of sadness, of regret. Me?" He punched himself in the side of the head for emphasis with the trigger.

"I was built for this shit. I was built to conquer. To win." Vile stated with a tinge of sadness."I'm BETTER than you. You don't even have your armors, and yet I'm still struggling here. You weren't even made for this, I can tell, I don't need your specs to know that. So, what the fuck, huh? Do you do it to make yourself feel better? To feel special? Do you secretly enjoy it? You'll never put us all away. We'll wear you down, day by day, and when we finally get you on that bright happy day, we'll crush your skull, drag your body through the streets, and I'll dance a little dance and sing a little song while we're doing it! So what is it? Are you a berserker, a gentle giant? I don't understand it, I can't piece it together myself...but I'm a visual learner first, Blue, always have been. I wanna see the Hunter in you. I wanna see this thing you have that no other Hunter I've killed has. It's been such a long time, and the real thing is way better than any video on the 'net."

"You think this is a joke, some sort of game," X said tiredly, looking past the Maverick now. "But I will pull this trigger, and you'll be the only victim."

"That's the look." Vile shot back, his thumb mashing down on the trigger hard enough that he crushed the whole device into splinters, a muted beep sounding just before it gave way entirely in his massive hand. "That's what I wanted to see."

The charged buster discharge was significantly louder.

* * *

The _Crossing the Rubicon_ seemed to stagger in mid-air, and then plummet towards the ground with an odd grace not becoming its form. Without the anti-gravity systems holding it aloft, and without any real propulsion, the wings were almost like useless decorations, unable to even guide the vessel in any way. One wing struck a skyscraper, cutting through it part way before being sheared away from the carrier The impact put the _Rubicon_ into a half spin, it's point defenses still firing wildly at Hunters who were within range, crashing through another smaller office building before settling on the ground with all the gentleness of a sledgehammer on glass, tearing though the concrete and into the subway lines beneath the streets.

The Hunters and Vanguard had all received Gavin's warning, but scarcely had time to truly prepare for what was to come. Confusion reigned in the moments directly after the crash. The 21st had mostly dedicated itself to finding pockets of civilians too close to the carrier, and calling in military transports to get them to a safer distance. Lenneth had divided Vanguard into two elements, one to hunt down rogue Maverick ride armor, Hilde and Kindle leading the other in an effort to assist the Hunters with civilian evacuation. They were only six blocks away from the _Rubicon_ when it finally came to rest on the surface.

Despite this, the _Rubicon_ fought on as its orders dictated, shelling everything it could within reach with whatever it had left, while deep within, the first of the reactor cores had finally gone completely out of control, the fuel within no longer moderated or cooled by any safety measures, breaches in the reactor vessel shooting out super heated gas that melted though bulkheads and into the nearby second reactor chamber.

DARKSTAR had recorded it all, dropping in closer to the carrier to get radiation readings, flanked by Gavin and Doan, the Hunters keen on protecting their airborne electronic warfare hub. The devastation they were witnessing had shocked them into silence. DARKSTAR could hear the panic and anger over the radio net, her own sensors scanning and marking the locations of civilians who had been know to be in the path of the ship as it had gone down. She wanted to scream, to find whomever was responsible and make them suffer worse than the dead had before the end, and knew she'd never get that opportunity.

As warned by Gavin, explosions rippled through the battered husk of the _Rubicon, _and she sent out one last warning to anyone on the open net to get clear or find shelter, just as a final, titanic detonation ripped the vessel wide open from bow to stern, shattering glass for blocks around, the ground rippling from the visible shockwave that parted the air around the crash site. They were a safer distance away, but they could see with almost too much clarity a number of flight-capable Hunters who were much closer, still trying to pick off the weapons on the ship that continued to fire indiscriminately, be wiped away by the sudden blast. Soap bubbles with fusion reactors, adding their own light to the conflagration.

Geiger counters began to click. Slowly at first, but insistently, reaching towards some unknown crescendo.

* * *

Missing most of his chest, Vile had fallen in a heap to the ground, sparking and spewing smoke everywhere, yet seemingly not threatening to completely self-destruct. Tearing himself free of Vile's dying grasp, X stood over the Maverick, malice threatening to overpower his entire being.

"I don't understand it." Vile's voice sounded distorted, more digital than natural now. "You. You're colder than the rest, when you want to be."

"When I have to be. When I'm forced to be."

"You had a look, X. A look that said you could do this forever, if you had to."

"I will, if that is what is required."

"You know what they say: No one lives forever. We all retire, someday." He clawed up towards X with one hand, barely able to reach the knees of the Hunter. "The future doesn't sound so dull, now does it? When your time is up, I'll be there. I'll be the one who made it happen. I promise-"

The sound of a handgun firing made X jump slightly, six, seven, twelve shots, from a standard issue Korean manufactured service pistol, all directed at Vile. His helmet split in half from the first few shots, revealing for only the briefest of moments the always hidden visage of the Maverick, smiling milliseconds before the rest of the barrage turned his head into so much scrap.

Breathing heavily, resting against a nearby desk, General Myung held the smoking weapon shakily in one hand, the other nursing his broken ribs. Dropping the pistol to the ground, he sighed, relaxing only slightly.

"You warned me, even as you yourself were in danger. You warned me to get out of the way."

"I'm a Hunter, sir. It's what I do." To that, the older man nodded before limping away.

He could see the other hostages, no longer under Vile threats, standing up from behind whatever they'd hidden behind, helping up those who could not stand for themselves. Some appraised him in respectful silence, and some went right to work, trying to reestablish communications with the surface. Other approached him, to say their thanks with salutes, or handshakes. X felt almost detached from it all, his eyes continuously returning to the dead Maverick, no matter how hard he tried to ignore him. His anger flared up once more, but he kept it hidden, within himself, and prayed that Seogwipo could still be called a city when he got back to the surface.


	12. Phase 10: Shudder, Shudder

_"You cannot simultaneously prevent and prepare for war."_

**-Albert Einstein**

_"In the 2030s, people strongly believed we would some day grow beyond the cycles of war and peace, a goal people have always dreamed of. Some even openly refused to fight in the wars that followed 2040, protested them in the streets by the thousands even as the bombs fell around them. Their orphans and fellow survivors, dreamers still, rebuilt this world, and went on to give birth to the generation that fought in the 2090s, and their orphans went on to rebuild the world once again. And they have given birth to a new generation of soldier, who with the reploid, will fight and die as all generations who preceded this one have. _

_I fear we are running out of dreamers and philosophers who attempt to break this cycle, or perhaps they have awakened from their dreams, and now acknowledge the world and its history for what they truly are. Perhaps they realize that what the seek can only be attained through actions they are opposed to."_

**-the private writings of General Apollo**

**Phase 10: Shudder, Shudder**

**December 12th, 2133  
Jeju-do, Korea  
2:32 PM**

Hilde felt her body run through final start up checks, felt the pulse of energy flow once more though her frame as her fusion reactor 'heart' beat once, firmly, a barely perceptible hum even to her ears. Her whole body jerked in response as power coursed through it, and then she was able to move somewhat. She tried to sit up, but found that her darkened surroundings allowed very little range of motion. Even with her natural ability to switch to low-light imaging, she saw nothing, save for her HUD continuing its start up protocols.

Memory came back with almost sledgehammer like force, as though played back in reverse from the moment she'd 'lost consciousness', until a proper point of reference was found and-

_She'd been standing next to Kindle, the pair having turned to their right just as the first explosions began to rip apart the fallen carrier, louder and more powerful than anything they'd ever been present for. It had shaken them both beyond just their physical bodies, though neither wanted to admit to the other that they genuinely feared for their lives in that moment._

_Around them, local military and police officers tried to corral civilians into already over burdened transports._

_They felt the final detonation before they heard it, which struck Hilde as fascinating despite being able to process the physics behind it all in her mind within seconds. Somehow, over the din, she could hear the screams of the frightened all around her. But she could not even attempt to help them, her own gaze frozen on the final moment of the carrier as it shattered before her, ripped into unrecognizable hunks of metal, and those hunks boiling away as the blast grew in size. Smaller spherical blasts dotted the sky around it before being consumed by the larger blast. Glass shattered all around her._

_Kindle shouted something, but now the noise was too much for her to understand it. He whirled on her and yanked her from where she stood, and now she was able to tear her eyes away from the disaster in time to see others forming all around her, buildings buckling from secondary shockwaves, the closest to her left actually folding in half, one falling backward against another structure, and the other fifteen stories of what she estimated had been a forty story office building fell towards her, Kindle, and all the civilians near them._

I can't help any of them,_ she'd thought, in a panic._

_The roar of stressed metal falling towards her, a rain of concrete and glass, combined with the howling engines from the evacuation transports, and more than anything she wanted to be with Ricardo Sato one more time before she died._

_Darkness._

"You're not dead. That's good." Kindle spoke hoarsely.

"Kindle?" She sounded almost disbelieving.

"You can't move much, sorry." He chuckled. "I used myself to cover you. I don't know where we are exactly, somewhere inside that collapsed building."

"I...don't remember everything."

"You froze up on me. Not good, girl. Not good."

Emotion came back simultaneously with the ability to move more freely. She choked back on a sob, and pushed herself away from the mass that had pinned her down, and found that there was actual light, very dim, shining from a crack on the 'roof' of the small place she was trapped in. The floor itself was uneven and made entirely of a mass of unrecognizable rubble. A brief inspection of herself revealed she was relatively unscathed. Scratched up in places, her armored vest badly torn, pieces of glass sticking through her body suit and into the synthskin on her arms and legs, but no serious damage whatsoever.

She could see Kindle, minus everything below his waist, apparently smashed underneath the wall just behind him, barely able to hold himself up by his forearms.

"Oh God-" Hilde scrambled back towards him, unable to stand in the confined space. Kindle was unable to lift himself up to face her. Tenderly, she placed her hands on the side of his face, and helped him rest his chin on her knees, so they could see each other.

"It doesn't hurt. Not as much as this." He smiled at her as best he could.

"I really froze up?"

"You said his name as it was coming down around us, and just blanked out." He tried to gesture with his hands, but couldn't even manage that. "I calculated the odds, distance, object vectors, all that stuff. Picked you up, and got moving. Warping wasn't possible, no signal lock with any satellites, too much interference. So as that part of the building came down on top of us, I found us a path. Room by room, wall by wall, doorway by doorway. Almost made it too, at least I think I almost did."

"I wish I could remember that." Her eyes widened as she pictured it in her mind.

"We can trade. I was scared shitless."

"Reploids don't-" She began to tease, but her voice shook as she said that, pushing herself closer to Kindle and wrapping her arms around his neck. "Thank you."

"I just couldn't let it happen you know?" Kindle's own bravado had vanished. "I couldn't. To you or to him. Not like this. Not today. Maybe three hundred, four hundred people all around us, I don't know. I couldn't do it. I couldn't let you be among 'em."

They stayed that way for several long minutes, as the sound of rescuers drew closer. There was a lot of shouting, and some of the voices sound familiar. Above them, they could hear Hypatia, shouting orders to other medics.

"You really did almost make it."

"Yeah. Maybe fifty, sixty feet away from freedom."

"Geiger counter's ticking." Hilde frowned. "Goddamn Mavericks."

"I don't think that was a nuke. But there was something nuclear involved with that blast. Dirty bomb, helluva dirty bomb. Wonder how bad it is outside."

"I owe you."

"I know." He seemed to grow weaker in her arms, falling slack. "Hey. I'm gonna sleep for awhile. Shoulda done it sooner, but I had to make sure you were okay." He tried to lift up one of his arms again, reaching toward her face, but joints groaned in protest, and the arm fell limply towards the ground.

"I'm fine Kindle, I'm fine." Her voice wavered, lifting up his palm towards his cheek. He chuckled, the sound distorted as electricity arced through his body, his energy systems struggling to deal with the catastrophic damage he'd sustained.

"Worth it."

"What went wrong? What did we do wrong?"

"I dunno..." He sighed. "It'll be fine in the end, I think..."

The light in his eyes faded away, just as the cracks in the roof spread wider, letting in more natural sunlight. Reploids overhead with tools continued to hack and pull at the structure above, shouting their names, asking if they were alright. Hilde didn't answer them, not willing to accept that she was the only one who could.

"Ricardo..." She couldn't even open a connection back home to let him know that she was okay, to tell him how much they owed to their friend. There was anger mixed in her sorrow. More than ever, she hated these Mavericks, everything they were, everything they stood for.

* * *

Lenneth massaged her temples, as though she were nursing a terrible headache. The majority of reploids didn't get headaches in the traditional sense. More advanced models that went further at replicating human physiology or psychology could 'simulate' them rather convincingly to themselves and to those observing them. She was one of those that could simulate them too well for her own tastes, but she'd brought it on herself. The explosion had devastated the Korean MilNet on Jeju-Do, and she'd offered her own unique processing capabilities to assist in maintaining the network until the physical hardware she was substituting for was brought back online or replaced altogether. There was quite a bit of data flowing through her at the moment.

She'd chosen a perch high above the streets of the city, primarily to allow for signal clarity from the satellites. The building rose high above the worst of the mess, and as the temporary primary data hub for the reploids doing recovery and rescue work it was a good place to coordinate efforts from. It also gave her an excellent view of the city around her. Despite being the middle of the day, the sun combined with the smoke and dust in the air cast the world in more orange hues, as though everything was aflame.

"Lenneth, we've located Hilde and Kindle," the reploid named Zak trotted up to her. "He's...well, he's definitely priority ma'am. Hypatia's setting up to work on him now."

"And Hilde?"

"Only busted up on the inside." Zak tapped his own battered chestplate for emphasis. "The rest of her is fine, ma'am."

"Our losses?"

"We're up to nine KIA now."

"Thank you for the report. Continue with recovery operations." Lenneth waved him away, slipping a part of her consciousness back into Vanguard's network. _"DARKSTAR, any further contacts with the enemy?"_

"_Negative ma'am. All threats have been neutralized or have fallen silent."_

"_You may stand down, DARKSTAR."_

"_Negative ma'am. I will be working in tandem with the commander of the 21st unit for Search and Rescue."_

"_As you wish."_ Lenneth brought up the vitals for DARKSTAR, chewing on her lower lip as they appeared on her HUD. _"Get that left wing repulsor assembly looked at soon, it appears your station-keeping ability is being affected by that."_

"_There are others in much worse condition, I can wait,"_ the recon reploid said testily. _"Please don't worry, ma'am."_

"_...Understood."_

Lenneth hated being told not to worry. It was one of the things she'd been built to do, as far as she was concerned.

* * *

Lifesaver was surrounded by far more guards than he believed was necessary, but they all had a vested interest in following the physician and his team. They were the surviving members of the 58th Unit, and they were looking for their leader.

Their search had taken then far enough away from the blast epicenter that the radiation was not interfering with their instrumentation. With Lenneth acting as their local data hub, and combined with MHHQ's records of Cirrus Tyber's last known position, they were bound to find him.

_Of course, we don't always like the things we find._

The first hint that they were close was when they'd found one of Tyber's defense drones, lying in the middle of a street atop a dead ride armor. Soon, they encountered signs of a brief struggle, deep rents carved into the pavement, more abandoned vehicles that had been rammed and tossed aside by something larger and heavier. Next to that, a building that looked as though something had been thrown through it with great force, walls blasted open, the inside in complete disarray.

They found him, lying embedded inside the hood of an overturned car, his chest badly crushed, his arms and legs twisted in odd, lifeless angles. Lifesaver inspected the body only briefly, as a formality really. He could hear the members of the 58th talking with him, pleading for him to make a miracle happen. He knelt down to get a better look at the Hunter's face, grimaced when he looked at the shattered crystal casing on his forehead.

"Chip's fried," he said. "I'll get a recovery team as soon as possible. I'm sorry, folks."

They protested, of course. There _had_ to be something that could be done. Perhaps a back up, perhaps Cirrus wasn't as far gone as Lifesaver said he was. Some cursed him. Others begged. Heated arguments broke out between Hunters once they realized that they'd been told the truth. How dare anyone suggest a back up! one Hunter cried above the others. It wouldn't be the same commander who'd brought them this far. He was shouted down by several others, who said it wasn't his place to decide. Ultimately, it was Lifesaver's decision, and it was one they couldn't make in the field.

Once more, Lifesaver wasn't one. He wondered how many times this would be the case before he ended up like his predecessor.

There were other Lifesavers like him, hundreds spread throughout the Hunter organization, but most of them had stayed strictly within the confines of their GDC programming. He was seeing why that had its advantages.

* * *

"Commander Signas, how is it possible that Mavericks were able to prepare for such a massive assault without being detected by either GDC Intelligence, the Maverick Hunters themselves, or the Korean military and intelligence apparatus?" The reporter shouting this over the rest of the crowd was not actually present, but was rather safe in a studio half way across the planet, the holocam presenting his image with minimal lag. The only reporters physically present were Korean, and even they were few compared to the rest. It was easy to spot them among the well-dressed herd of press, their hazmat suits clearly distinguishing them.

"I cannot comment on the precise nature of GDCI methods of surveillance for security purposes, but the nature of the attack suggests a lengthy planning phase. Initial analysis suggests this attack could have been staged as early as Sigma's First. I have ordered the deployment of two Hunter units from China to assist with scouting and data retrieval from the facility we now know exists atop Mount Hallasan, we should be learning more in the next few days."

"The Korean Government has made an open statement criticizing the response of the GDC to the incident." One of the Korean reporters piped up, walking through several holo-projected reporters as he spoke. "Likewise, the GDC has replied that the Maverick Hunters are the primary response to Maverick incidents around the world, and that Hunter deployment was handled expeditiously based on up to the minute circumstances. How would you rate your response?"

"Not good enough." Signas gestured to the city around them. "It is hard, if not impossible, to excuse any of this. I am well aware of where my personal responsibility stands, and where we need to improve."

"Some sources claim you knew the ship was intended to self-destruct in the city." A man with BBC credentials stated, aggression clearly evident in his words. "Any truth to that?"

"Did your sources also tell you we learned of it perhaps minutes before it actually self-destructed?"

"But you did know?"

"Yes."

"Could you have done something to prevent it?"

"No. The best we could manage was to get some of the civilians closest to the crash site away from it. I somehow doubt that will satisfy you." Signas snapped. "A human such as yourself, cowering in his studio far away, has no actual reckoning of what happened here." Despite being not physically present, the BBC reporter seemed to shrink away from the reploid as he approached. "I'll answer one last question. Then I will to return to my primary responsibilities."

"We now know the bomb behind the primary detonation was not nuclear, but a radiation has been detected across Seogwipo, and trade winds will likely have it spread towards the Chinese mainland. Will an evacuation of Jeju-do be necessary?"

"We've detected Strontium-90, Cesium-137, and Iodine-131 in the blast zone. These materials have half-lives of twenty eight years, thirty years, and eight days respectively. I believe an evacuation order will become mandatory." Signas turned to leave, ignoring the shouts from the press, clenching his fists tighter with each step, immersing his mind back inside the Hunter's network.

* * *

"Looks bad, X." Zero said, walking up to his friend as he sat on a what had been a taxi's hood. "They're saying we didn't move fast enough, that we didn't do enough."

"The hell with what the press says," X snarled. "I'd say it's the same every time, but it's getting _worse!_ These days they don't even wait for the victims' families to start grieving before trying to turn them against us!"

"Amen to that," Zero agreed. "Fortunately, not everyone's that stupid. I like to think so." X didn't turn to face him, staring blankly at the pavement.

"Are you okay?" he asked quietly.

"Better than you are, Hypatia could confirm that. And I got shot with a mag-rifle." Zero frowned. "You beat him, X."

"Not decisively."

"What you ought to feel is proud, buddy." Zero gave X a light slap on the shoulder. "You committed to a pretty irrational action, and still saved those people. I admit I was wrong about that."

"I guess I did." Finally, X looked up to his friend. "How're those people in Vanguard?"

"For a lot of them, it ain't their first time at the rodeo, if you know what I mean." Zero shook his head. "Still, this whole mess is really something else. Brings back memories of Sky Lagoon." He kicked at a small rock. "Goddamn Mavericks. We lost Cirrus today."

"...Lifesaver confirmed it, did he? Damn." X made the gesture of pouring a drink onto the ground at his feet. "He was one of the older ones too, can't replace that overnight. It doesn't get any easier, does it?"

"If it did," Zero said, mimicking X's motion, "that'd mean we've been doing this for too long." He looked into the smoke filled sky, trying to see beyond it. "Early retirement, eh? Sleep well, Tyber. You earned it more than most."

"Right." X suddenly looked away, as though he'd been pulled into another conversation

"Hey, who ya talkin' to, cause obviously it's more important than your own best friend here." Zero mock pouted.

"Gimme a sec. Alia's lecturing me on procedure."

"Whozat?"

"Navigator, New York, didn't I-"

"No." Zero knelt down to try get a closer look at his friend's expression. "You don't look like a lovesick idiot, just your usual self."

"She's upset with me for not letting her do her job. We kinda deployed in a hurry, well before I gave her access to the new communications network at NYHQ." X said sheepishly. "It was mostly an accident. I was worried about getting out here as quickly as possible, as opposed to following proper procedure."

"Navigator? Really?" Zero shrugged. "Aren't you supposed to hang up on those?"

"You should try one some time."

"Like you ever have. If you had, she wouldn't be bitching you out."

"Point." A few minutes passed, and then X finally stood up, his private conversation finally complete. "Signas wants us to debrief immediately, and then we're to begin coordinating evacuation efforts for civilians. Where's Erebus?"

"Moscow for some reason."

"That reminds me of Cossack's Citadel." X looked to the battered skyline all around him. "The world's going mad, I hope Kalinka and the others are doing fine."

"We'll pay 'em a visit sometime, X. Feels like it's been ages since we saw 'em."

* * *

Solar Falcon was unsure how he'd deal with the nickname some Hunters in the 0 Unit were calling him. 'Patchwork Falcon', in honor of his apparent ability to get torn up, shot up, blown up, and generally abused by the threat of the day, two times in a row. It was a friendly joke, he knew, but he was still unhappy about it. As he lay on a maintenance bed, considered non-priority and waiting to be looked at, he decided to try and find things to think about that amused him:

One- This was twice in a row now that he'd nearly cashed in his chips early. There had to be a life lesson in there somewhere.

Two- He couldn't smile or frown, or manage much of a scowl when one of the medical staff asked how ol' Patchwork was feeling. Having a beak limited his facial expression.

Three- How much would it cost to get his facial appearance altered to be more human-like? Not likely even with his combined Hunter salary and military pension.

Four- After a brief look on the Network, it turned out it was in fact very affordable. How about that?

Five- Maybe he could beat the others to the punch and get the name on his maintenance bed at HQ to be replaced with Patchwork.

"Hey." Raye stood over him, looking down into his eyes. The sight of someone as short as her being able to look down upon him. She was in considerably better shape than he was. The blue-gray-black digital camoflage that made up her light armor had apparently done its job in the urban environment of Seogwipo. She was pristine by comparison. "Just...checking on the new-blood."

"Hunter Raye. The tables have turned."

"Not for the better." She said, failing to muster up the same friendly grin she'd greeted him with the day MHHQ had been attacked. For the first time, Falcon noticed that her unit patch was a simple lightning bolt, with the number 58 at its tip.

_The new guy, luckier than the experienced commander-class. _Falcon would have properly winced if he was able to. Word had gotten around quickly that the 58th essentially had been beheaded. He'd not been with the Hunters long, but he knew that loss was something they took much harder than he expected. In his time with the JSDF, death was dealt with in a more detatched fashion. The hurt was still there...but at the same time it wasn't. Grief was meant to be in private, you were expected to maintain a proffessional demeanor at all times, and most kept to that until they were in private and the rules and social expectations no longer applied.

"He's gone, Falcon. Captain's gone." She choked out. "Why couldn't he be as lucky as you? What did you do different?"

"I didn't rip out sub-tanks this time." He spoke truthfully.

"Fuck you." She half-sobbed, half-laughed.

_This bed isn't so bad after all. At least I know I'm laying in it._

**Moscow**

Erebus was rather impressed with just how quickly the Russian Federal Security Service (FSB) reacted to his unannounced arrival at one of the key security checkpoints leading to the Moscow Kremlin. He was surrounded almost immediately by armed guards, all of whom human, weapons trained on him. Were he a Maverick, they might have gotten him in a rush, but not until after he slaughtered a great number of them before the inevitable end. He was surprised they didn't try taking him down on the spot, the possibility of which he'd been willing to risk. While he negotiated with the guard captain and explained his reasons for being in Moscow, his mind was focused on the Electrosphere, on events hours away.

Jeju-do was all over the news now, and he never suspected it would be as terrible as this. Signas' impromptu press conference revealed the long lasting consequences for the island, and now military and political analysts were discussing how the Maverick attack would factor into world events. And yet despite the horrible consequences of the incident, darker days lay on the horizon if he was unable to persuade the Russian government to reopen political dialogue with the Chinese.

That gave him perspective.

Miraculously, Vanguard had come away from the self-destructing carrier and the fighting that had preceded it across Jeju-do with 'only' serious injuries to a number of personnel and seven confirmed KIAs, Kindle and Hilde fortunately not among them. It would be inconvenient if Vanguard lost two of their best and brightest in all of this, but he'd long come to terms with the cost of doing this kind of business. Ultimately, everyone was replaceable. Even Erebus.

Vanguard was still more than capable of continuing the hunt. Overall, another silver bullet dodged, but not cheaply. Lenneth was ensuring he'd understand that thoroughly even while refusing to actually speak with him.

_She's good at that whole 'twisting the knife' thing. SpecFor through and through._ He knew there was going to be quite the discussion when he got back.

The FSB captain he was speaking to backed several meters away, still not giving the guards orders to stand down, speaking into a radio in hushed tones, trying to hide what he was saying with distance and by turning away from the reploid. Erebus heard everything, and remained relaxed.

Arseny warped down directly in front of him, looking less like a copy of Signas than he did when they first met. He looked a bit stockier, less likely due to cold weather enhancements, and more for hidden armaments he likely now possessed. There was nary a hint of the flashier paint scheme from before, replaced with digital urban camoflage that appeared capable of shifting between 'memory schemes' to blend in better with other environments. The buster he leveled at Erebus as soon as the warp transfer completed came as a surprise, the weapon clearly not GDC stock. It looked heavier, and was designed to look intimidating while remaining functional. Humming plasma blades stuck out from the buster at angles suggesting that it could be forced through the armor of something significantly heavier than a reploid, to offer a better chance at hitting vitals.

"You're rather brazen coming here like this. American, through and through." The reploid harrumphed, lowering his weapon. Interestingly enough, Arseny spoke English with a thick Muscovite accent. Reploids could choose their accents in any language, so assuming it wasn't an act, in Erebus' mind this spoke much for Arseny's perceived loyalties.

"You look different from before, lost a lot of the GDC fancy trimmings. They modified you, Commander, pretty extensive from what it looks like."

"Just this morning, yes. It is also 'Major' now. I have been reassigned to a local Spetznaz brigade."

"You're a Hunter though. GDC."

"I was built in Russia, and so I fall under my government's jurisdiction." He waved at the guards around them to stand down. "Captain Petrenko informed me you have urgent business with our heads of state with regards to the loss of our Energen facility." His mouth twisted into a rare grin. "An admission of guilt? The penalties for terrorism in this country, for reploids especially, are rather cruel, former Reploid Special Forces Captain Erebus." They began their walk towards the Kremlin proper, the eyes of soldiers and cameras following them every step of the way. "So. What do you have to offer to my government?"

"I can tell you who is responsible for the destruction of your energen facility, the Chinese counterpart, and recent events in Jeju-do."

"Promising. Can you make the old men listen, and stop this madness?"

"That'll be the real magic trick."

"Let's get inside a secured room before you try this theory on me. If you manage that, you only have to accomplish the impossible."

_**The Wrath of Olympus**_**  
65 miles north-east of the Spratly Islands  
South China Sea**

The Spratly Islands had long been considered the potential location of a wealth of natural resources. In the late 20th century, tensions slowly rose over this potential, and twice over in the 21st did they actually boil over. First, it had been oil, but when several of the larger islands in the cluster grew from volcanic eruptions, energen had become the next 'big thing' in natural resources, with its adaptability to so many industrial needs. The Spratlys had the largest known energen reserves on the planet.

By the time this had been discovered, the GDC was firmly in power, and wisely had recognized the importance of the islands, and their potential for conflict. The rights to mine and drill around the Spratlys had been divided among three key political groups, the GDC itself, the AmeriCanadian alliance, and a coalition of non-aligned nations.

When AmeriCanada backed out of the GDC after the events in September, there were people with well founded concerns that the Spratlys would once again become a potential flash point.

As a Chinese and Russian naval fleet stared each other down in the South China Sea, they'd been proven right.

* * *

Nike needed no other operators to command the vessel, able to control all of the automated functions aboard the ship with ease. Submarine warfare was hardly a simple task, and she admired the fact that a full compliment of humans could possibly outmatch her at this particular game if she slipped up even once. At 1400 feet below the surface, even a relatively simple depth charge could break open the hull and drown her in the depths of the sea, her body sinking rapidly towards its pressure tolerances. There was no way to actually access the warp network from her current location, so it was important to blend the _Olympus_ as well as possible into the noise filled background of the seas.

Based on passive sonar and magnetic detection systems, Nike had positioned her vessel somewhere under the center of the the Russian battle group. Support AI's helped identify ships based on the size of their magnetic signatures, blade counts from the varied propulsors at their disposal, even by identifying the reactor types used by submarines based on their own unique sounds that managed to escape modern hull designs.

Beneath them all, the _Wrath of_ _Olympus_ stalked.

The Chinese battle group seemed smaller, mostly because the _Olympus_ was not close enough for her systems to properly size it up. That had been deliberate on Nike's part. As soon as hostilities had begun to look more likely, the Russians had decided to send the supercarrier _Kiev_ and company to the Spratleys in the interest of protecting their energen operations within the islands, and to evacuate civilian personnel from Russian facilities. The Chinese had done much the same from their perspective, leading to an awkward confrontation where neither side was wholly committed to making the first move. Further intelligence gathering revealed that the United States was putting together two task forces centered around the supercarriers _Nimitz_ and _Ronald Reagan,_ pulling themfrom their usual patrols in the Pacific, though there still had yet to be any open announcements from the White House that their hat was thrown firmly into the ring on behalf of their Russian friends.

Nike was surprised by just how exhilarated she felt after confirming all of the available data she had. The superpowers were drawing the battle lines, and they'd done so with much less hesitation than she'd predicted.

_One last push._

The Zhou class assault submarine had been designed to accomplish a variety of missions. While not as large as a proper ballistic missile sub, the _Olympus _was large enough to handle polycraft and smaller amphibious assault boats if necessary. More importantly, she was designed to handle deployment of infantry through smaller scale submersibles.

The total remaining forces of The Few numbered exactly seventy two combat capable reploids other than herself. They were all scattered between both surface fleets on board a collection of Swimmer Delivery Vehicles, acting as a extensions to their mother ship's natural detection capability and her offensive capabilities. They were primarily tasked with locating any operating hostile submarines in the area, and tracking them. Both the Russians and the Chinese had spent a lot of money on their respective sub fleets, and they presented the greatest threat to the _Olympus. _The AI's confirmed five by itself, and the deployed Mavericks sought to shadow them, in doing do managing to stumble across a sixth.

It was a dangerous and quiet game of tag being played, and neither side was shying too much from that. Indeed a pair of Russian subs were inside the the Chinese perimeter, and likewise, they'd slipped in one of their own among the Russians.

And then there was the _Olympus._

Nike began the slow process of bringing the _Olympus_ closer to the surface, a thousand feet closer. The 'hull popping' noises that would result from that would undoubtedly allow Russian sonar operators to detect the sub if they hadn't already. Just as intended.

**The _Kiev_**

Modern naval aircraft carriers did not remain on the surface of the ocean unless they intended to launch and recieve aircraft, or they were trying to make a statement of sorts. While surface ships had their role to play, the prevalence of super-cavitation weapons that could travel at speeds in excess of three hundred knots made the many superpower who had fielded navies in the 2040's and 90's rethink the design of centerpiece vessels like the carrier. On the surface, you could be found with considerable ease compared to being down below.

The _Kiev_ was one of three supercarriers the Russians still had in active service. All two hundred fifty meters of her currently broached the surface of the South China Sea, her polycraft decks exposed to the salt air, giving her the shape that called back to the more traditional carriers from more than a century before. Those 'decks' could fold in on themselves, the polycraft secured inside the hull, and _Kiev_ would dive below the waves, a massive, silent dart coated with anechoic armored plates part of a triple hull design. An expensive waste of money, that armor, for any two modern anti-ship warheads would send her to the bottom the same as anything else. This fact the crew was adamantly aware of as their polycraft patrolled the skies around the fleet, groups of them dipping sonar arrays into the water, others flying only feet above the ocean, operators holding one eye firmly on the magnetic anomaly detectors. They knew that the Chinese were doing the same on their end, both sides knew there were hostile subs much closer than they liked.

"There it is. Found the bastard." The sonar operator lead of the _Kiev_ was only twenty, but proud that he'd come this far at such an age. He was good at his job, good enough to be the coordinator of a group of six other men in a sonar room as important as this one. An hour before, they'd picked up a Chinese Han III class submarine entering their perimeter. Now there was this, and it was quite the find.

The captain of the _Kiev_ was thirty seven years his senior, but held the abilities of these operators in the highest regard. He'd left the bridge to come down to where the 'real work' was being done.

"What have we got, Mikhail?"

"Chinese Zhou Class. He was playing it very, very smooth sir. Twelve hundred yards off from our port bow. I believe he is aimed at us."

"The only comfort in all this is that our own submarines have gotten closer to their prizes than this." The old man sighed. "Do we know what vessel in the class?"

"His sound signature is unlike anything I've heard from other Zhou class, the computer can't get an accurate blade count or match it to anything else on record. He is using hydrojet propulsion, he could have gotten closer if he didn't ascend. He could be modified or damaged in some way."

"How so?"

"Flow noise is different, distorted in some way. Most ship hulls are very smooth, little more than the diving and steering planes and vectors. Here, listen." The operator pulled off his headset and offered it to the captain.

He strained to hear anything different at first, the typical hull popping, the ocean flowing over hull-

His eyes widened slightly, and the sonar man smiled knowing now the captain had heard what he'd heard.

"It only became more noticeable when he changed depth, when he started moving really. I didn't think the Zhou class could keep station that quietly or steadily, so all I'd been going on this last hour was a magnetic anomaly and water flowing on hull. I don't think I ever heard crew noises either. He was holding steady at about 1400 feet, I only managed to ID him when he cavitated."

"Their commander grew nervous?" The captain guessed. "Couldn't be. Their captains are better than that. Something had to happen to drive it closer to the surface." He checked his watch idly. "I'll assign three polycraft to him. We all know how the game is played, he may need a reminder of the fact that he lost."

_**Wrath of Olympus**_

Nike returned to the e-world once more, the ship represented by light, with other lights shooting back and forth between herself and her people outside. She could make out signals being passed back and forth between the surface ships, even those that passed between the polycraft that gathered above. They could be dealt with in short order.

The twenty reploids assigned to the Chinese fleet all sent back a single coded signal. They were ready.

_"You may commence._"

* * *

Reploids were traditionally heavier than human beings, and far less buoyant if they were not built around the concept of operating in water. Nike's reploids were not, and so they used their micro-submersibles to explore the ocean beneath the Chinese surface ships. Up to this point, there'd been no real signs that they'd been detected, but it was difficult for them to tell. They relied implicitly on Nike's superior understanding of the acoustic conditions surrounding them, if she said they were clear to begin, the Chinese likely did not notice the small magnetic signatures their equipment would be giving off.

_"Vantage Lead, order from Queen of Diamonds confirmed, executing."_

There were five submersibles scattered throughout the fleet, each carrying four reploids. One vehicle, carrying a portion of the team designated 'Vantage', had finally been able to make visual confirmation with the once 'probable' submarine contact that the _Olympus_ or the extended sonar network of the SDV's had not been able to pin down. The pilot of the torpedo-like craft pushed the throttle forward only slightly, trying to accelerate without cavitation, aiming for the rearward control planes on the ship. It too was a Zhao-class vessel, a growing rarity among the Chinese subsurface fleets, but nothing like the _Olympus_. It lacked the special refinements that had given the _Olympus_ the ability to get so close to the Russians, and yet was smaller.

The Zhao-class was coming almost head on at them, originally, apparently using its hydrojet propulsion to move quickly to a newer location. The leader of Vantage element would have preferred if she and the others could have had time to leave the SDV and place the mines with greater care, but there was no way they could manage that now, not without risking detection. She guided the SDV as close to the hull as she dared, while the three behind her loosed a series of specialized mines. Modern ship hulls discouraged traditional magnetic limpet mines, their surfaces making those weapons slip free.

These mines created a chemical bond with whatever surface they came in contact with, hardening into a catalyst that would become a shaped superheated plasma charge that would empty itself through the hull plating into the compartments behind it. Two mines bonded with VLS doors, another directly on the 'sail' of the vessel. Vantage Lead inverted the SDV as the diving planes came into view, slapping her pair of mines to them before pulling away.

_"Vantage Lead, objective achieved."_

Elsewhere on the surface, three more ships had been 'marked' in similar fashion. SDV's slid alongside the hulls of two destroyers and a dedicated ASW cruiser, mines quickly placed before setting courses away from their targets. Each squad leader reported in succession their objectives complete.

_"I confirm your targets marked for demolition."_ Nike's voice was actually laced with anticipation. Even from her command seat on the _Olympus_, she felt the the same familiar rush those in the field proper were experiencing at that moment._ "Remote trigger authority in place, detonation in five seconds. Clear your sectors."_

It was hard for any of the Mavericks to believe that the Plan had come this far.

**The _Kiev_**

"Bridge to the captain, explosions detected from within the Chinese fleet!"

"Confirm it!" that captain snapped at the sonar techs. Mikhail and his comrades worked their instrumentation, straining to listen for details. "Bridge, send video feed directly to my datapad!"

"Video coming in now, sir!"

The high resolution cameras on the ship, combined with the various patrol craft strung throughout the sky painted a grim picture. A single Chinese surface ship had been split in half, rapidly sinking and likely taking it's entire crew with it. Smoke still billowed from the center of the explosion. _What hit it? One of ours? A mine?_

More blasts followed, one coming from beneath the water, followed by two more surface ships being rocked by explosions that seemed to erupt from directly below their hulls, and through their surface decks and superstructures. One ship seemed to capsize almost immediately, the other listed badly to starboard, but somehow managed to stabilize. The cameras were sharp enough to catch people flung free from their stricken ships, and despite being Russian and the Chinese being the potential enemy, the captain of the _Kiev_ could not help but feel sick at heart after seeing fellow sailors suffer such a fate.

"Good lord."

Mikhail ignored the drama a foot behind him concentrating entirely on the noise in his headset. Even at this distance, he was able to pick up the collapsing noises as sections of bulkhead failed the deeper the remains of the ship sank beneath the waves.

Then there was another sound, much closer, much more frightening.

"Torpedoes in the water!" he shouted. "The Zhou-class is firing on us!"

"Emergency burst transmission to Moscow! We have been engaged by a Chinese navy submarine!" A deck above this one, communications officers prepared a full data packet that contained everything the _Kiev_ had known and seen up to this very moment. Even though the ship would die, their political masters would know how. They simply wouldn't understand exactly why, just like the crew of the _Kiev_ never would.

It was a terrible sound, hearing the rocket booster on all six torpedoes come to life almost simultaneously, shrieking through the water with an unnatural roar, directly towards his ship.

Mikhail had maybe seconds to live at the speed they were traveling, and felt himself shaking more and more as he listened to the torpedoes close in.

* * *

The _Kiev_'s hull had been designed to take at least one direct hit from the type of warheads coming at it. Though the ship might be grievously damaged by such a blow, it could remain afloat, and if it were sinking, it would not be as quick as the fate that had befallen the smaller Chinese vessels. _Kiev_'s sailors would stand a chance to survive.

It was, however, not capable of surviving six of these warheads. They were guided in along the length of the hull, impacting simultaneously along the bottom. Mikhail, his subordinates, and his captain were all dead in a single, terrifying moment. The sonar room's position deep inside the ship only placing them next to where one of the warheads detonated, heating the water, air, and hull to temperatures that matched those of the surface of the sun for less than a second.

It's hull ruptured violently in every direction and flew apart, spraying debris across the ocean, raining down all over its fleet. The waters roiled in the aftermath, the larger scraps that remained of the _Kiev_ sinking in time with its fellow Chinese victims.

_**Wrath of Olympus**_

With the carrier gone, Nike's thoughts turned toward the VLS array atop of her ship, setting them to fire all sixteen prepared missiles as soon as she reached a proper launch depth. She continued the sub's ascent towards the surface until more points of light could be seen from her position in the e-world, more paths for her to trace. Studying them all for a moment, she slipped away from _Olympus' _network, abandoning it only temporarily. She was acquiring better firepower. Despite the three confirmed polycraft hovering above, and the angry active sonar waves from other ships lashing the hull, she remained unconcerned. The polycraft would be dealt with shortly, and she needed less than a minute in-the-real-world at most.

_"Hecatonchire?"_

_"I'm dealing with them."_

His voice always managed to make her feel secure, even when she wasn't.

* * *

Hecatonchire's SDV had remained close to the _Olympus_, the solitary guard while the rest of the Few had been given more offensive tasks. From beneath the water, close as he was to the mothership, he could hear the missile launches begin, his SDV surfacing just as the first missiles, riding gouts of water and flame, poured into the air and quickly leveling off to seek out targets within Russian fleet. The pressure hull of the SDV split open, allowing Hecaton to stand at full height.

The polycraft had scattered, their pilots possibly in shock by what they'd just witnessed, swerving their machines in an attempt to remain safe while also remaining ready to fire their own warshots at the _Olympus_ as it began to dive back down towards deeper water and relative safety.

Hecaton could not fully deploy everything that was hidden within his body, but his twin 30mm cannons would suffice, particularly at close range. He kept the closest of the three polycraft centered in his vision for a moment, just as it turned to face him. He wondered if the pilots had spotted him-

-the world was reduced to light and noise-

-and now he clung with two of his four arms to the canopy, his other arms converted to autocannons and shoved through the protective glass, already spewing fire through the pilots and into the ship itself. He felt it begin to spin out of control, threatening to throw him off before he was ready to move, seeking out the second target, finding it-

-light-

-and he was off by several meters, still in mid-air and above the second craft. He twisted his massive frame into a forward flip, his autocannons walking lines of fire across the top of the craft before he crashed down onto it. He stabbed his two normal arms into the hull to brace himself as the craft nosed over towards the sea. Unable to see it, he kicked away from the dying machine as hard as possible, trying to find the third craft even as he too plunged towards the ocean.

_Where are you?_

He couldn't see it anywhere, his HUD only indicating surface ships, the missiles the _Olympus_ had fired, and counter missiles launched by the Russians. He felt panic rise from within him.

_"Nike, I can't locate my third target!"_

_"It does not matter,"_ she replied, her voice strained.

The impact with the ocean surface momentarily shocked him offline. Upon reawakening, he found himself sinking almost too rapidly, his internals being soaked by sea water through the various gaps in his frame due to his partial deployment. He sealed himself up as best he could, calling his SDV back to him, wondering why his failure suddenly did not matter to Nike.

* * *

SKYLIGHT was the biggest stick in the sky, but far from the only one. Smaller mass driver platforms traversed the lower Earth orbits, mingling with commercial satellite traffic almost always undetected. The GDC had such weapons, and weapons to counter them. Likewise, Russia and the United States had their own fair share of orbital artillery. The satellite Nike had chosen to transfer herself into could fire a specialized composite material rod at targets hundreds of miles away, within ten feet of said targets. The destructive power of a shot was not from any warhead it carried, but from sheer kinetic force of impact, combined with the plasma sheath that built up at the tip of a rod as it burned through atmosphere at speeds anywhere between eight to twelve times the speed of sound, various layers of the composite material melting down from the extreme heat.

To those who'd fought in the 2090's, the sound of a whole battery of orbital mass driver shells ripping through the sky and into the ground were an iconic and frightening spectacle, the distinct shriek made during atmospheric entry the stuff of nightmares. Whole divisions of troops and armor vanishing under the deadly hail had been commonplace, to the point where most assaults on entrenched positions consisted of unmanned armor drones to try and force orbital batteries to expend at least one salvo, thereby revealing their position for land and air-based ASAT weaponry, or kill-satellites.

Russia had assigned a battery of six mass drivers to their fleet, acting primarily in a surveillance role. Networked as they were, Nike found that she only needed to burn through the security of the 'primary' satellite. The others were programmed to automatically fire for effect around the area the lead mass driver targeted. The hack took only twenty three real life seconds, but to her perception it felt like like hours as the visualized code swept across the space before her avatar in layered waves, parting before her as she cracked the security one section at a time. Like the other superpowers, the Russians had learned to invest heavily in various electronic security methods, but could not afford or remember to upgrade everything all at once. That meant that when Nike had been created, this was a level of security she'd been programmed to defeat. To her, it felt like brutal, exhausting work, leaving her feeling 'weak' in both the physical and electronic world, but she'd succeeded and that was all that mattered in the end.

Her new, temporary body had roughly eighteen 'eyes' to observe the Earth with, and was a hundred and ninety miles over the Earth's surface, far lower than what was considered 'safe'. She had a window of perhaps a minute to actually make use of the weapons before the speed of their orbit took her out of effective firing angles, and took her away from her real body. There were larger, more deadly mass drivers that could remain in geosynchronous orbits for greater accuracy, but they'd long been banned from actual use, less tactical weapons and more strategic. Nike did not dare to test their security, and did not need to. She needed something relatively immediate in effect.

Each mass driver in this commandeered battery carried a payload of six twenty foot long, two foot wide 'rods'. A brief burst from the maneuvering thrusters, and she had the general area the Chinese fleet occupied within reach of the orbital battery. Banding boxes appeared around targets, as well as estimated positions each ship would be in by the time the mass driver rounds landed. It was likely she'd not hit anything directly. Even at the speeds the rods would be fired at, it would take a little over two minutes before they hit the surface.

Soundlessly, the first salvo 'dropped' free from the battery. Then the second. The third. This continued until the six mass drivers had fired six shots apiece. Her task complete, she returned to the Electrosphere, following the one path back down to her body.

Nike had no need to confirm shots on target by staying on the satellites, no need to actually hit anything directly. She only needed to convince the Chinese that the Russians were trying, and with Rods From God, you only needed to be close.

* * *

The SDV brought Hecatonchire back to the surface, not intending to let the last polycraft escape his wrath, standing atop his tiny vessel, water pouring free from his frame, scanning for the target. With Nike temporarily 'away' from the _Olympus,_ there was no way for him to tell if they'd fired their own anti-ship weapons into the sea and put the mothership in danger. In the distance, he could hear further explosions from within both fleets as the rest of the Few detonated charges they'd planted on a dozen of unsuspecting vessels. So enraged was he that it was impossible for him to see that all around him, in spite his own slip up, the plan was working.

"Found you!" he roared in belated triumph, spying the the last of the polycraft just a torpedo dropped free from a conformal slot along the length of it's body, just as he raked autocannon fire across it, centering a part of the barrage directly on the bulbous cockpit canopy, on the pilots themselves. He tracked the torpedo into the water, trying to shoot it, failing to do so as it slipped into the sea.

_"Nike!"_

* * *

Nike's return to the _Olympus_ was greeted by a silent alarm that indicated a torpedo in the water- two torpedoes, almost directly above the 'mast' of the vessel. Instinct told her to increase her speed and run for the 'noisier' parts of the sonar picture. Not that it would have helped much. Despite being nothing like the supercavitation weapons she'd sunk the _Kiev_ with, at this range they didn't need to be. At just shy of a hundred knots, the Olympus had only moments before being hit twice, a second of spacing between each strike.

_Emergency blow, all ballast tanks, _she willed to the sub, and her command was followed quickly, feeling it shudder as it made for the surface. Cavitation sounds probably filled the ears of those listening for them. She drew in a breath she did not need, her hands clenching against her arm rests.

_Klonk!_

_Klonk!_

The sound came from ahead of the command bridge, from the forward half of the vessel.

_What?_

Her mind quickly understood what had happened, even read about this happening in electronic novel archives. She'd beaten the fuse timers on the warheads, somehow. _Olympus_ was now at 1100 feet, still rising, knowing she wasn't safe-

Then the blasts came, and the submarine seemed to bellow with pain as bulkheads strained and gave way. The _Olympus_ quaked all around her with such force that Nike was thrown free through the restraints on the bed, ripped free from all of her physical hardline connections, and into one of the bulkheads, her vision momentarily giving out while some of her non-essential systems rebooted. She was in much better shape than the ship was, that much she could tell, staggering to her feet and making her way to one of the consoles flashing a damage report.

It was worse than she would have liked.

The torpedoes initially struck amidst the VLS tubes, bouncing away as their primary shaped plasmic charges had not been set to correct fuse timer lengths. Had they been, the tips of the weapons would have burned through the anechoic armored plating, penetrating the pressure hull before their secondary, more powerful conventional explosives took their toll on the innards of the sub, potentially gutting it bow to stern. As it was, they'd exploded close enough to the hull to have violently warped it inward on both sides of the VLS array, with flooding extending to the vehicles bay, and partly into the crew's quarters. The towed array sonar was also gone, shredded by the overpressure shockwaves. Sensors that checked for hull stresses were either currently offline or taking in readings well beyond their ability to display, but the gist of it was that there was little to explain why the entire hull hadn't outright failed and taken Nike with it to a miserable grave at the bottom of the South China Sea.

Fortunately, The Plan no longer truly required the ship, or the services it could provide, but if lucky, even the dying _Olympus_ could serve one last purpose.

_"Vantage Team is to disengage from operation area, and await further orders."_ She spoke over the network, pleased that despite everything, it remained up and running.

There remained so much to be done.

* * *

Hecatonchire had listened to Nike's orders like the others, feeling his own self-loathing only magnified when he heard her usually serene voice replaced by one of exhaustion and near-defeat. He watched as bolts of light shot into the sky from the direction of the Chinese fleet, and wishing he was among them, speeding off to another battle. He would have to come back to the _Olympus_, if it survived the next hour, and face Nike. Face the woman he'd almost let die.

He remained on the surface, watching half of his comrades speed away, watching the two fleets exchanging fire all around him. They were all too preoccupied with eachother to notice even the likes of him, lying in a surfaced SDV, almost as though he were sunbathing.

_Such terrible weapons,_ he mused, seeing the distinct trails, led by plasma sheaths, arrowing down towards the sea, towards the unknowing Chinese, so fast that they made no sound. Not yet.

All at once, the ocean came alive, a cacophony unlike any he'd ever experienced before. A deep basso hiss, as water boiled away, steam exploding into the sky, six huge fountains reaching upward for thousands of feet. And then again.

And again.

And again. Until the horizon before him was nothing but white clouds and water, with the occasional flashes of orange fire breaking through from within. He could see waves rushing out from the epicenter, cresting at hundreds of feet high.

Then came the loud, high pitched shrieks, fading in and out between strikes, the delayed roars of falling mass driver munitions gouging away whole swaths of the sky. He wondered how it might have felt to die hearing that sound, and decided it was best that the Chinese sailors likely never heard a thing, before the end.

* * *

Rods from God were meant primarily for striking land based targets. Strategic or tactically important static locations, and rarely were so many fired at one specific target, let alone at ships at sea. But it had been effective nonetheless. Even if a single rod landed thousands of feet away from a surface ship, the sudden increase in water pressure from the kinetic strikes was enough capsize even the larger vessels in the fleet.

For ships that had been only hundreds of feet away from an impact, they'd simply vanished in the ensuing burst of water and steam, torn open by the shock of the passing rod, reactors running out of control as their coolant boiled away, their vessels sundered open, exposing fuel to the elements. Conventional ammunition went off spectacularly, but unseen by those outside of the strike zone. It was worse for the few submarines caught in the barrage. Their pressure tolerances exceeded in a single instant a hundred times over, they simply collapsed into themselves, like grim beer cans sinking toward the ocean floor. Ships on the outskirts of the fleet immediately forgot the Russians they'd begin exchanging mass driver rounds and missiles with, finding any known safe vector around the strike zone and away from the Russians.

The Russians too, stopped firing, confused by the terrible display of power from their own weapons. Had the Admiral aboard the _Kiev_ authorized a mass driver strike moments before the end? Did Moscow know? Why had the Chinese opened fire upon them in the first place?

Confusion reigned supreme on both sides of the fence. The surviving Chinese ships and shocked Russians made frantic calls home, and in turn, diplomats made their own calls to eachother. So it was that the Sino-Russian Conflict began in broad daylight, thousands of miles away from the actual borders of either belligerent, or their respective allies, with neither side having actually been willing to pull the trigger first.

* * *

Despite the terrible damage _Olympus_ had sustained, its hull was still insulated against the noise from the direction of the Chinese ships, though sonar was nearly useless for over a hundred miles around the points of impact. It would be slow, but the ship could slink away if it was carefully nursed along. The flooding in the damaged compartments had been allowed to run the full course, roughly twenty percent of the ship filled with seawater, but in such a way that the overall trim of the sub was more or less balanced.

Nike regretted the loss of the VLS array. Her plan had been to fire a series of coordinated missile strikes on the the Russians as they retreated out of the op area, to further harass them, to give them a greater sense of fear, but after seeing the images of what was transpiring on the surface in the wake of the mass driver strikes, it was probably unnecessary for now. Vantage Team, now scattered into small four man squads throughout China and Russia, were more than capable of doing that, if the nations required yet another nudge in the right direction.

A single line of text floated across her vision, from Hecatonchire.

_'I almost failed you.'_

Nike wanted to assure him that everything was fine, but believed that no words from her would convince him of that, especially when he eventually would make his away back aboard and see the damage to the ship. Sighing, she ordered the ship to chart a course north, away from the Russians, and for the AIs to call for her in the event of an emergency. The navigation AI responded to her orders quickly, estimating that at the best possible speed and depth the ship could manage, it would be at least half a day before it could be considered guaranteed that they had effectively broken contact from the Russians.

Her mind traveled through 'net, seeking to predict what the world, what the GDC, would do next.

_With fewer pieces, fewer moves than you or I could have ever predicted, I call 'check' on the whole world, Number Four._

**Moscow**

On the surface, the Moscow Kremlin looked almost ceremonial in nature. Intensive and expensive restoration efforts that had persisted through two world wars had ensured it looked 'better than original' in almost every regard. Historical documents ensured it's authenticity. It made for a popular tourist destination, and save for the presence of heavy military guard at various points of entry, one would hardly suspect what lay below was one of several nerve centers of the Russian government. The entire Moscow Kremlin was one of the largest and most opulent front doors to any underground facility in the world.

Six hundred meters below the State Kremlin Palace, where official public functions continued to this day, five cargo platforms made the trip back and forth between two security branches, surface and sub-surface security. Men, material, and reploids were subject to constant scans, the platforms themselves sealed and pressurized environments, with little actual contact with outside personnel. Wireless communication on the platforms was impossible due to high-frequency jamming emitters that stayed active twenty four hours a day, and everything spoken within the platforms was monitored and recorded. As such, Arseny and Erebus stayed silent until they reached sub-surface security and submitted to the required inspections.

Once cleared, a second cargo platform moved them approximately fifteen hundred meters northwest, away from beneath the Moscow Kremlin grounds, to _Sluzhba Vneshney Razvedki_ Central. The Russian Foreign Intelligence Service maintained a surface facility in Moscow, but only stationed non-essential personnel there, and that building served as another access point to Central. Precision kinetic weapon satellite strikes had become so common during the 2090's conflicts that belligerent nations invested in moving much of their governing or military infrastructure to underground locations to stave off or outright defeat such tactics.

"I usually just warp in," Arseny said. "They will not allow me such a convenience with you in tow."

"Understandable."

Passing the third security checkpoint, they marched up towards the 'front desk', where a pretty blond woman issued Arseny an electronic access key, a semi-transparent card with blue light trailing the edge in one second intervals.

"Good morning Major. Remember to come back to replace the card in six hours, or you will be locked out of the local security network." She smiled pleasantly, but it did not reach her eyes that stared at Arseny's guest. One free hand had moved smoothly underneath her desk where Erebus knew some sort of high caliber mag-pistol was now aimed in his direction. He even heard the click of a specially muffled safety catch, something humans could never hear themselves. He thought of asking her the model or make, but from what he'd already observed, the SVR was no place for that sort of humor.

"That is a short amount of time." Arseny noted, studying the card.

"Enhanced security precautions." Her smile was the least sincere thing Erebus had ever witnessed.

_Theme of the day,_ he thought.

"You are both checked in." The woman said, tapping in a series of commands on a touch display. "Welcome to Central."

* * *

Arseny's office was as bland as it got, and the reploid did not care one whit: Desk, terminal, two seats heavily reinforced for weight support, one on either side.

"Alright," the Major offered Erebus a seat. "Sell me."

"Mavericks are responsible for the energen refinery attacks, not the Chinese." Erebus decided to get straight to the point, and was pleased to see that Arseny did not look totally disbelieving from the start.

"Proof?"

"Encrypted GDC warp network traffic logs on the day of the Beijing attack show transfers from Beijing directly to Jeju-Do, Korea. I assume you know what's just happened there."

"One of the worst Maverick incidents since Repliforce. But Jeju-do doesn't follow the particular _modus operandi_ of the energen refinery attackers, a distinct lack of precision by comparison."

"A deceptive and deliberate choice by the Mavericks. I have a recorded confession of at least that much, as well as their method of transport. A submarine, no details as to what kind, I would assume a custom hull."

"Do you have those logs?"

"Of course." Erebus began to extend a data cable from behind his left ear towards Arseny, but the larger reploid shook his head.

"Before you transmit those logs to me, I want to know how you got this 'recorded confession' of yours."

"I defeated one of these Mavericks in combat. He required little additional persuasion after that. There is one more thing I should mention before you see these logs."

"Oh?"

"The Mavericks want SKYLIGHT."

**GDC Headquarters  
Amsterdam, The Netherlands  
8:12 AM**

_The news leeches have rarely been kind to reploids. You carry yourself well, _Jonathan Spencer silently complimented his former protege, watching parts of the interview recorded eight hours away as his driver/security detail pulled into an underground parking bunker. Once the hovering sedan came to a halt at a security checkpoint, the younger man moved like clockwork, as he always did, almost racing to open the door for the Chief of GDC Intelligence before he did himself. Today, the younger man won by such a margin that he grew concerned.

"Sir?"

"Just the old age, I'm afraid. You can't protect me against that, Wallcroft."

"They pay me to try, sir." He didn't smirk at his own joke. Wallcroft was one of four drivers that Spencer's SAS security detail rotated through. He was in his mid twenties, and almost a mirror image of Spencer from his own days as a proper mud slogger. The British government had an entire division of elites like him assigned to Spencer, rotating units in and out every year, proof of their vested interest in Spencer, man of the Commonwealth, in one of the most important seats of power in the GDC.

This was an earlier trip to the office than Spencer was accustomed to, but the circumstances demanded it. As much as Jeju-do was a tragedy, that was the furthest thing from the center of his attentions. The GDC had just issued an official War Warning to all member states in South America, Europe and Africa, and as such all of the GDC's military assets would go to maximum alert.

He'd been asleep when the warning went out, and due to increased security protocol, he'd not been told exactly what had prompted this step at his home, asked instead to report in immediately for an emergency session of the Security Council. After passing through another checkpoint, he would be where requested. He now mulled over what could possibly await him.

_Has it already started? _He asked himself as he limped into the Situation Room, concerned that the meeting was being held here, as opposed to the larger chambers where more GDC representatives could be involved. Decisions were going to be made within the hour, he surmised. Indeed, it was likely some already had been made.

**6 miles west of Wangqing, China  
1:45 PM Local**

Most of the deployed Spetznaz, once inserted into Chinese territory, had made their way back towards the shared border, marking various border stations for surveillance and potential destruction. China was a huge nation, not quite on the same scale as Russia, but large enough. There was simply no way to cover all the wide open spaces between cities, towns, or military installations. Modern satellites were good, but therm-optic camoflage could defeat even that. These facts were reassuring to the men and women on the wrong side of the fence, it allowed them to be more bold in their movements during the day, and they had moved almost constantly since their initial insertion. Their combat armor provided a cocktail of synthetic stimulants to keep them focused and awake to the point of restlessness. They almost preferred to keep moving, had to force themselves to be still, to observe, to report.

It had been an enormous gambit. There were roughly ten thousand Russian combat personnel in China, a healthy portion of the Spetznaz brigades. The illusion that this was merely reconnaissance had long since vanished. If the Chinese were preparing to cross the border in force, they would find a honed knife deep within their backs almost immediately.

While most teams had doubled back to the border, others went deeper into the lion's den.

Oleg Morozoy, Sergeant of the 8th OSN 'Rus' Spetsnaz brigade, was perched above the ground on a tree, his combat suit allowing him to climb and hang from objects with relative ease and almost without tiring. Over his eyes, his helmet had slid down a pair of multi-use 'snoopers', goggles that act as binoculars, or could switch between IR, night vision, and enhanced 'standard' vision, a mode that could defeat therm-optic camouflage use within fifty feet of where he faced. Despite the short range, it could mean life or death against a camouflaged opponent, so few complained of its limitations.

His team of eight were within sight of their primary objective, a newly built-up staging area outside of the city of Wangqing. Regular bursts of information to their forearm mounted displays confirmed a sizable military presence there, including the the Chinese 25th Tanks division, and the 232nd Motorized Infantry division for support. More importantly, satellites had managed to penetrate the EM barrier expanding around the city to identify evidence of the greatest threat the Chinese had in their arsenal.

Nothing conclusive numbers-wise, of course, but equipment considered vital for the transport and maintenance of reploids was spotted at the staging area.

Wangqing was important because it was just under a hundred and fifty miles west of Vladivostok, home of the Russian Pacific Fleet.

Spread out across a loose line a mile wide, five other 8th OSN teams like Morozoy's received their orders to advance into the target zone and prepare 'countermeasures'. Each man carried twenty pounds of Shape Variable Demolition Material alone, in addition to personal preference in weapons. Morozoy carried the Russian standard infantry 'combat system', the AK-108. This afforded him a 50mm underslung grenade launcher, along with three varieties of shell he could load into it. The rifle itself was a modified to include a magnetic acceleration system along the length of the barrel, to give the 13.5mm rounds an estimated six hundred feet increase to the overall lethal range of the weapon. He, like all others assigned to this objective, carried a Multi-Use Anti-Material Rifle, magnetically accelerated as with most weapons designed to defeat armor or reploids, and by law, they could only fire these weapons at reploids or armored vehicles. They fired caseless, fin-guided 17mm rounds, fed via a box magazine. There was little doubt as to what would happen to a person hit by such a thing, even from three miles away.

Despite all the equipment, Morozoy felt little of it. The stimulants, combined with the additional support the armor provided, helped him feel light even as all 350 combined pounds of him dropped to the ground with a considerable thud. Over the last day or so, he'd wondered if his friends who died on December 1st how they might have fared if they'd all been wearing the armor. It was a distracting series of thoughts to have, but he knew he wasn't alone.

His wrist-pad buzzed him insistently. He glanced at the small LED display, as did all others of his unit.

**WAR WARNING WAR WARNING: CHINESE NAVY HAVE COMMENCED HOSTILITIES UPON RUSSIAN ASSETS IN SOUTH CHINA SEA. ALL BORDER FORCES TO GO TO MAXIMUM ALERT. CHINESE MILITARY ASSETS APPROACHING BORDER CROSSINGS ARE TO BE CONSIDERED HOSTILE, PROSECUTE ACCORDINGLY. MESSAGE REPEATS-**

That was as close as they could get to being told they were actually at war. The leash was being loosened, but they were not quite free just yet. Their orders had been clear. They were to reconnoiter their assigned objective first. Until it was official, they could set explosives, prime their detonators, release the safety catches of their rifles, chamber a round. But they could only do that, and no more until it was official.

It would take them twenty minutes to cross the six miles between them and the staging area at their best possible speed, and if they were lucky, the Chinese would never see them coming. Silently, he gave a hand signal, and his seven fellows moved in tandem with him. The snoopers provided a HUD, also showing the other teams advancing on the objective.

Speed was of the essence. Morozoy assumed that the Chinese were likely in a similar state of enhanced alert, meaning that if there were reploid units in the city, they were going to be activated and actively patrolling the target location, if not preparing to warp to targets deep within the motherland. The 8th OSN needed to beat them to the punch.

Like many of his fellow Spetznaz, he'd spend some time privately considering what their being in China actually meant. Had they been detected before today, their presence certainly would have been considered an act of war, even if they'd only been conducting surveillance and nothing more. Russia would have been blamed for starting a new conflict. They'd have been the aggressors.

But now he was a defender against Chinese aggression, so the war warning lead him to believe. He considered the situation for a few seconds longer before leaping from his perch to join his team on the advance, pushing aside doubts and curiosities. He immersed himself 'in the moment'. The two million citizens of Vladivostok and Khabarovsk, and the one hundred million total of all Russia were counting on them.

**Moscow**

Arseny stood up abruptly, his expression one of total shock. That alone worried Erebus. From what he'd observed of the command-class reploid during the training exercises, he'd remained almost deliberately neutral during the whole exercise. Even now, as Erebus had explained his theories with the gathered evidence, he'd listened with the same impassive mask, uttering only terse requests for clarification.

"We must go to the Situation Room. Immediately. I am now giving you the warp coordinates, and the access codes to the modulating EM barriers surrounding it."

"What happened?"

"The flag ship of the 1st Pacific Fleet, the supercarrier _Kiev_, along with six more vessels within his battlegroup, were sunk by a Chinese submarine in the South China Sea. We apparently struck back with orbital mass drivers."

Erebus warped away from the room before Arseny could continue.

* * *

"My government did not sanction any such attack on your vessels." The Chinese ambassador repeated, the calm in his voice clearly the product of immense self control, rather than actual confidence in his words. "We have long honored the international agreements surrounding the Spratly Islands. We have respected the border sovereignty of the Russian Federation."

"One of your submarines launched an unprovoked attack, sinking twelve ships, including the Kiev." The Minister of Defense leaned forward, staring through the projected holographic image of the elderly man to the Minister of the Interior sitting opposite to him at the the table. "We would appreciate an explanation."

"And my government would appreciate an explanation for the sudden attack on our vessels in those same waters, culminating in an orbital mass driver strike that all but destroyed the People's Liberation Army Second Fleet."

"The Admiral on board the _Kiev _was given authority to respond to attacks on his ships and personnel by any means he saw fit." Defense pressed a button to close outbound communications for a moment. "Have we confirmed that such an order was even given? Good God, an entire orbital battery worth of kinetic rods!"

"We're still trying to confirm that." The Admiral of the Navy had been practically dragged from his private residence on the outskirts of Moscow, and did not look nearly as dignified as he would have liked, dressed for a day of reading leisurely at home as opposed to work at the office.

"Gentlemen, if you cannot answer my questions, I cannot do my job as ambassador. Before I end this conversation, be aware that first-use of orbital bombardment weapons has been prohibited under international law, in accordance to an agreement set forth by all member states of the GDC. I am certain you know the consequences for violating that." Whatever menace that might have existed amidst those words, it was negated by just how scared he actually sounded, the facade broken. With that, his image dissolved into thin air.

"Perhaps it would matter if we were in the GDC!" The Defense Minister pounded his fist angrily into the desk, scowling at the President. "They believe we fired first. We can't even tell if our people gave the orders to even use the mass drivers!"

"Do we have a positive data record of their submarine firing on the _Kiev_?"

"Without question. Observation satellites, data records, eye witness accounts, it's all there."

"Do they know of our forces within their territory?"

"As of now, there is no indication that they are aware of our soldiers' presence." The Director of the SVR replied. "Their military build up continues to be focused at key border crossings. Per your orders, we have sent official War Warnings to all key border posts, and have informed the city councils of Vladivostok and Khabarovsk to begin emergency evacuations of non-essential staff from the city, as well as a controlled emergency civilian evacuations."

"Current force projections indicate this falls well within Blunt Dragon, Scenario One," CINC-East spoke next. "I highly recommend releasing strategic restrictions on all of our orbital arrays."

"Do it. I will be making a speech to the people from this room in twenty minutes," the President said firmly. "I want security troops to enter the Chinese ambassador's residence, and place him under arrest immediately, before he leaves the country." An aide quickly exited the room, already working her data pad and speaking into a communicator as she left.

That was when an unfamiliar reploid, clad in black and gray armor, warped onto the table, actually crushing it under his weight. There were shouts of surprise and fear elicited by all the men in the room. The aid found herself bowled over and shoved back into the room as security guards burst through the double doors, aiming weapons at the lone figure.

A moment later, Arseny appeared next to the reploid, shouting first at him for being so reckless, then shouting back at the guards to stand down, who in turn shouted for Arseny to get out of the way and for the other men in the room to get down because they were prepared to shoot. This went on for a minute until finally, the guards agreed to lower their weapons. Arseny leveled his own buster at the reploid, cursing under his breath.

"It seems I've come at the right time. I'm Erebus, US Government." He spoke in english, leaving Arseny to translate for him on purpose. "I'd like it very much if you'd listen to my proposal to pull your forces back from the Sino-Russian border before you do something we will all regret."

**Jeju-do**

The debriefing was handled swiftly. Signas made it clear that he would be taking responsibility for the delayed response of Hunter reinforcements in a brief statement and apology to his people, and moved on from there. He calmly issued field promotions to fill vacancies in command slots, and made it clear that many Hunters would come to find Jeju-do to be closer to a second home for the next few months, while they helped secure the island and track down any evidence that could help them uncover the hows and whys of everything that had happened that day.

It was a good act. He still seethed in the privacy of his own mind, frustrated by the Korean government's refusal to allow him to act sooner and his willingness to follow their ill-advised requests, which in the end were truly all they'd been. In retrospect, he could have gone over their authority and made the situation an issue to be within the jurisdiction of the GDC Security Council, and they'd have might have authorized a larger Hunter deployment sooner.

But he hadn't. Despite his role as commander of what was a branch of the GDC military, there remained vestiges of one of his original intended roles, mediator between governments and their armed forces. He simply hadn't wanted to upset the political ties between nations.

He wondered where the resolve he'd found in the aftermath of the attack on MHHQ had disappeared to.

Civil services and the military had stepped in to help with the evacuation and decontamination of civilians from Jeju-do, but it would take weeks before it was considered safe to deploy nanomachine clouds to help begin the process of cleaning up the airborne radioactive material. For the land and structures that had been doused with the stuff, only time alone could truly rid the worst of it. Even the Hunters working in the worst of the affected areas would have to undergo a rigorous decon, and to humans they'd still be a little more unhealthy than usual to be around for years to come.

There was much to do, and he'd lost a number of good people who could have helped make things a bit easier. The loss of Cirrus Tyber was going to absolutely ruin the 58th. What made it hurt worse was that Tyber had once been one of the more outspoken critics of Signas during his first year within the Hunter organization, and Signas had only managed to change that within the last six months. Tyber's service all over the world before being assigned to MHHQ, and his willingness to question orders and operational decisions he was not comfortable with had made him a very important asset to Signas, and now he was gone. One of the 'pillars' had fallen, taking with it part of the foundation of MHHQ.

Baengnokdam, a crater lake atop Mount Hallasan, promised to hold some answers to this growing nightmare. Falcon, for all of his supposed recklessness, had revealed the existence of a facility at it's depths that should not have existed in the first place. For all of their rhetoric and chest-pounding, the Korean government was going to have a hell of a time explaining how the Mavericks had managed this almost literally under their noses. The thought of that amused Signas.

Preliminary surveys indicated the lake was much deeper than it should have been, conflicting with the official depth of 130 meters at least four times over. The waters were too murky to see much of anything with video probes, but there was definitely metallic mass at the bottom. Large enough to possible handle servicing a carrier like the one Vile had laid siege to Seogwipo with. It would take a few days to get the equipment necessary to dive down and begin inspection, but it would be worth in, and Signas wanted to be there when whatever it was that was down there was uncovered. He wanted to get his hands dirty, and stop leading from the rear.

Interrupting his thoughts, a blinking message icon appeared in the corner of his vision, addressed to him from Jonathan Spencer.

_Probably checking up on his 'kid',_ Signas mused, opening the message.

**Signas,**

**china-russian war considered imminent. Naval assets exchanged fire in south china sea near spratlys, casualty count undetermined, russians alleged fire wmd at chinese navy. In emergency session now, warning to you that chinese govt wants GDC to reassign MH assets to sino-russian border for 'protective measures', expecting to go to vote by tomorrow. I believe shooting will start before hand need you here asap to discuss**

**Sorry to hear about Jeju do and your people, you handled reporters well. Contact me soonest, bad feeling all around this is getting out of hand**

**regards,**

**Old Man John**

He read the note three times, taking in each letter carefully, as though by studying it hard enough would reveal itself as a very early and tasteless April Fools joke. But it wasn't a prank. He'd seen enough 'scribbles' like this from Spencer to know that he would not make light of something like this.

_Legally, they could order us to do this. It is within their rights. I am legally required to accede to their demands if such a command is issued._

_Legally, humans made us wait while my comrades and their own citizens died. I followed legal procedure today._

As a reploid, Signas didn't have a 'heart', per se, but he certainly felt what counted for one sink.


	13. Phase 11: Interesting Times

_"Why was it necessary to drop the nuclear bomb if (Curtis) LeMay was burning up Japan? And he went on from Tokyo to firebomb other cities. 58% of Yokohama. Yokohama is roughly the size of Cleveland. 58% of Cleveland destroyed. Tokyo is roughly the size of New York. 51% percent of New York destroyed. 99% of the equivalent of Chattanooga, which was Toyama. 40% of the equivalent of Los Angeles, which was Nagoya. This was all done before the dropping of the nuclear bomb, which by the way was dropped by LeMay's command. Proportionality should be a guideline in war. Killing 50% to 90% of the people of 67 Japanese cities and then bombing them with two nuclear bombs is not proportional, in the minds of some people, to the objectives we were trying to achieve."_

**-Robert S. McNamara, _The Fog of War_**

_"There's no hospice large enough for an entire species, but if I think of the human race as my terminally-ill biological parents, it only seems natural that as one of their many sons, I do what I can to make their passing somewhat less painful."_

**-Erebus, speaking to the 2nd RSF on September 15th, 2125**

**Phase 11: May You Live In Interesting Times**

**December 12th, 2133  
****South China Sea  
**_**The Wrath of Olympus**_

Nike could feel her 'self' fading with every passing moment that she remained attuned to the hundreds of major communication nets the Russian and Chinese armed forces used, but she did her best to hide this from Hecatonchire. In the visualized space of the Electrosphere, she sat cross-legged atop a pillar, the datastreams piercing her avatar as a virtual headwind, her figure inexorably diffusing into the streams that she'd drawn into herself from the 'Earth' rotating gently tens of thousands of miles away from her. She'd been designed to act as a battlefield communications hub in emergencies, but never alone, and never to this degree.

Next to her, concern filling his eyes, sat Hecatonchire, ensuring she would not dive deeper than was safe or sane to try.

Of all The Few, she was the only reploid capable of even trying to sift through the deluge of raw data for anything to indicate that either nation was prepared to avenge their fallen in the South China Sea. Anything to show that one side had truly raised its fist in anger, prepared to bring it down on their hated foe. Part of her was surprised. Confusion still reigned supreme. Their troops were as ready as they'd ever been, yet nobody seemed fully committed. Perhaps, even at the highest levels of control, reason still held them in check enough to cause hesitation.

Of all the data she allowed to stream through her being, one string caught her attention, a familiar face she'd not seen in person for years, in Moscow of all places.

_A commendable gambit. Perhaps you are the one responsible for this delay, Erebus._

Nike had predicted Erebus would try to reach the leaders in one of the nations first, even predicted it would be Russia. China and AmeriCanada relations had been tense even when both were in the GDC. As things now stood, Erebus could find better ways to commit suicide than to march through the Tiananmen Gate and demanding the Chinese stand down and reopen dialogue with Russia.

If he had gone to China, her plans would have changed dramatically. Nike had contingencies in mind for any recklessness on his behalf. It was important that he see everything come to fruition.

_"It seems the reasons we've given the world aren't enough."_

_"Nike, you're-"_

_"Fine. I'm within my tolerances." _She flickered, almost vanishing entirely for one fleeting moment. _"It's a matter of concentration." _It was difficult for Hecatonchire to tell if her smile was genuine, or faked for his benefit. They were both well aware of the toll her recent activities took upon her mind. Where he counseled caution, she only pushed forward.

_"So you say."_ He failed to sound neutral, reaching towards her for a moment before resigning himself to accepting her stubbornness once more.

_"The Olympus?"_

_"We've managed to escape further detection, no small miracle. The show you put on has both sides making quite a ruckus on the surface in their haste to withdraw. We only barely managed to save the ship from sinking, and we're not going to manage much better without putting into a proper drydock facility, and there's none we could possibly visit."_

_"Miracles indeed." _Abruptly she stood, the tendrils of light that had coursed through her whipping back toward the globe. She carried her lithe frame with deliberate grace as she walked off the pillar, into thin air, towards an image capture of Erebus by a security camera near the Moscow Kremlin. _"The ship will draw his unit to it, regardless of the condition."_

_"If any of his kind access this ship's database-"_

_"I want them to access it, Hecatonchire. I want _him_ specifically to access it. And he will." _She exuded confidence in her prediction. _"He will."_

_"Is this also part of the plan?"_

_"It is."_ And just like that, the matter had been closed.

Dozens of light shafts snaked out from the globe, from locations within China and Russia, lancing through her head. These new connections were from her soldiers, scattered between both nations, and those that had remained aboard the Olympus.

_"We will begin with initial strikes as part of the contingency." _ Her voice sounded labored as she gave The Few their new orders. _"The first targets designated. And then we wait."_

**Moscow, Russia  
****9:58 AM Local Time**

"If you'd be so kind as to indulge me," Erebus said to the still fuming Arseny, taking note of the weapons drawn at him, the collapsed table under his feat, the elevated pulse of every human in the room. After waiting for Arseny to finish translating, light peeked though the cracks in his elbow joints. There was a short, high pitched sound, and then his forearms fell free, landing against the wood crushed underfoot with dull, metal clangs. "I've disarmed myself of my primary weapons. You may confiscate them if necessary." It didn't seem to relax anyone in the room, and if anything the armed guards pushed in a few steps closer. Fast as he was, there'd be no way to evade anything fired his way. Their hesitation came from the fact that there was a good possibility that killing Erebus would take the whole room with him.

They were right to suspect, but hopefully would never learn this. It took every ounce of self control that Erebus could muster to look unperturbed by his current situation, to hide the anger he was feeling at that moment. Anger with the men surrounding him, at their current ability to move the whole world to war with a single command. Anger at Nike, for having engineered it all.

"You are fortunate Arseny is with you. Under other circumstances, I'd have ordered my guards to shoot to kill. US government, you say?" The President of the Russian Federation sounded unconvinced through his bluff. His English carried less of an accent than Arseny's, which amused Erebus somewhat, but had him on his guard all at once.

"Yes sir. My organization specializes in Maverick terrorism, specifically in military-grade Mavericks."

"And your interest in this is warranted because?"

"I have evidence that ties Mavericks to the attacks on Russian and Chinese soil."

"You obviously have confidence in your information." There were humans that Erebus felt at a disadvantage when speaking to in his time, but they were very few in number. The Russian President had joined that special group quicker than most. "To you, it may appear as though it explains everything. Can it truly explain the sudden attack on our fleet in the South China Sea?"

"The decision to believe me is up to you. We hold the lives of millions in our hands."

There was a vociferous debate in Russian for several minutes between the president and his cabinet. Even Arseny lent a word or two to the near shouting match. Erebus remained silent. While he could speak the language and understand it, he felt that keeping to the act of being unable to follow the conversation would hopefully get them to slip important information he needed to get them to stand down from whatever readiness level they'd placed the military at. He already felt discouraged by what he was hearing.

Spetznaz in Chinese territory. Well before the supposed attack on the Russian fleet. An official War Warning. Orders to shoot Chinese military units if they approached any border crossings.

_Did you even account for that, Nike?_

More frightening still, they could not confirm if their own officers ordered the mass driver strikes on the Chinese fleet, only that they did in fact happen. With Nike as a factor, the implications were disturbing.

Erebus brought up an official dossier of President Konstantin Chernyaev as the debate went on, wanting to know more about the man who seemingly controlled the room with his iron will. What he found did not bode well for his goals. A former GRU Director, he made his first splash in politics in 2110 when he announced his intention to run for the presidency of the Federation. The failed bid did not silence him, and he continued making regular appearances on national televised news and at gatherings held by the major political parties. His influence only grew as the government consistently failed to meet the expectations of the people during the reconstruction of cities and towns that were affected by their short-lived but damaging experience under Chinese occupation in the 2090's.

Chernyaev's hardline stance against the GDC, who collectively rejected Russia's bid for entry, and his focus on preventing another 'mishap from the south', had won him the minds, if not necessarily the hearts of the nation. He was considered uncharismatic at best, striking an intimidating appearance when he did speak to the public, but was a patriot to the core who 'got results', and it was hard to argue with that. Recent events were calling his leadership into question, perhaps unfairly.

One thing caught his attention Erebus' attention inside the dossier. An interview with the man in 2130, during a visit to the United States, had him quoted as being 'proud' that so much of the GDC still feared and respected Russia as a capable threat.

_Damn._

Chernyaev finally turned his attention back to Erebus, raising a hand to silence everyone else. Further evidence of his absolute control of the room.

"I find it hard to believe that you cannot speak Russian," he said flatly in English before switching back to his native tongue. "The Americans would not exclude such utility from a machine built for war." He paused, squinting at the nameplate on the reploid's chest, "Would you agree with that statement, Erebus?"

"No, they would not," Erebus' own Russian could have been mistaken for a native's.

"Depending on what you have to say, you can either be retired here in Russia, or merely imprisoned until your government comes to collect you. Now then, begin your explanation. And remember that time is very short."

_"You are taking a huge risk,"_ Arseny communicated to Erebus through a private link. "_I have reviewed the information you gave to me, and I believe you are telling the truth. But I am a reploid, and therefore suspect. He is a human."_

_Well, that's one vote of confidence._

"I am the former 'Four' of the United States 2nd Reploid Special Forces Battalion, a command-class reploid." The old men shifted in their seats with that introduction. Almost all of them. Chernyaev remained impassive, unimpressed. It was impossible to tell if it was an act or genuine. "You may remember their work this past September. You may or may not know that select members of those Mavericks did not turn themselves over to the authorities in the wake of that incident, that nearly a hundred reploids designed for covert warfare have been running free around the world since the end of that incident."

"What is it that makes you better than these Mavericks you speak of?"

"I've killed at least two, personally. I intend to retire them all. That is what my organization, Vanguard, was created to do."

"You cannot do that when you are imprisoned."

"The start of this month," Erebus had elected to move on, "the defenses of one of your largest energen refineries was found inadequate by a small force of reploids. You lost it and an adjacent mine to their efforts. I know what you found on the black box of a gunship that had been assigned to defend the facility. I know you believe the Chinese are responsible. On paper, it makes sense. In 2093, the Russian Federation drove deep into their territory, almost to Beijing on one front. Unable to actually lay siege to the city, you pushed towards Nanjing, attempting to encircle the bulk the People's Liberation Army, and cut them off from the rest of the nation. After a year, when it looked as though you would not be able to proceed further, your nation conducted a series of mass driver barrages on important government and industrial facilities, hitting cities well away from the actual battle lines. A desperate move, one that paid off immensely. It was one of the largest sustained orbital bombardments of the war, enough to convince the Chinese government to not pursue further military action. An armistice was signed a week later."

"I'm well versed on our recent history, reploid. They started the war. We helped finish it." The President said coldly, emotion visible for the first time.

"Just establishing that they potentially have the motive." Erebus noted the change in tone. "I admit, it is arguable they have the reploids sophisticated enough to follow those motives to the logical conclusion."

"You believe otherwise."

"The type of transport your attackers used to escape from the refinery has a limited operational range, assuming the data you've collected is accurate. It could only reach a total of eight operational airfields, two of those would be on your side of the border. Another would be the proposed site in Mongolia, due to the security agreement they've signed with China, a base where not even the ground has been broken for construction. The rest would be in China itself. I've poured over GDC warp network logs from that day. I know your government has been unable to find any evidence of an unauthorized polycraft landing at any airfields within its borders, unofficially neither have the Chinese. There's no evidence that any transport took off or landed at any of these airfields at times that would coincide with the attack."

"It is certainly within the capability of reploids to be able to alter warp network and surveillance satellite records. Reploids the Chinese certainly possess would be eminently capable of such acts." Chernyaev steepled his fingers, staring hard at Erebus. The sixty two year old could hardly have posed a real threat to him, but his eyes may as well have been shotgun barrels. "An amateur hypothesis at best. It is simple enough to stage light polycraft in the middle of the many unpopulated locations in both China and Russia. Satellite and radar surveillance is not perfect. You could even accuse my own military of the action, it is not as though Chinese military hardware has not been sold to any number of nations throughout Asia, and if we wanted any single piece of their hardware for 'analysis', we would have it. And we do."

"Why would the Chinese would commit an act of war on the GDC, hacking its surveillance systems just so it could strike a single energen refinery in Russia?" Erebus asked. "Why would you even think this?"

"You're a student history, Erebus, or so you have me fooled into believing. Perhaps you should read about The Occupation of 2092 once more. Our nation has little reason to trust the Chinese."

_I'm losing the room,_ the reploid realized.

"The reploids of the 2nd RSF went Maverick in an effort to dislodge the GDC from power, embittered by the 2124 world trial, and by events during their deployment to Africa the following year. In the end, they only weakened it when AmeriCanada bowed out. They've drawn the battle lines for you, sir. By setting Russia, one of the larger 'non-aligned' nations in the world, on a path to war with the People's Republic of China, currently the largest military and industrial contributor to the GDC, this is nothing short of accomplishing their established goals." Erebus raised his voice as he continued, watching decisions being made well before he even finished presenting his case.

"These reploids have not only struck at China and Russia, they've deliberately targeted the Maverick Hunters, a GDC organization, with recent attacks on their New Tokyo and New York headquarters, likely attempting to eliminate more specialized assets that could be brought to bear against them. Already, their efforts have inspired my government to more or less shut down large scale programs like the Reploid Special Forces. I suspect my own organization is on borrowed time." He paused once more, wishing he'd not jettisoned his arms so quickly. Trying to gesture with stumps was probably earning him no favors. "Today, I retired one of these Mavericks during the attack on Jeju-do. Their involvement in recent incidents is not coincidental. It is part of a deliberately designed scheme that seeks to take advantage of existing political tensions and historical rivalries."

"Speeches do not make evidence. What makes you believe they are connected to the South China Sea? To any of this?" The aging, out of proper uniform admiral asking these questions came off as holding a supreme disregard of reploids as a whole. Unfortunately for him, that wouldn't be enough to make anything Erebus said a lie.

"According to the Maverick I retired, they have a submarine. One I'm willing to believe sunk your ships, prompting your retaliation with the mass drivers. It's a perfect base of operations, they'd never gather in a place easily accessible by land, and to hide in orbit requires extensive data manipulation, and the ability to bypass security at the space ports. One or two instances of an extra reploid in the projects could be overlooked. Dozens would raise suspicion. By GDC mandate, the warp network prohibits direct transfers from Earth to any of the Lagrange point colonial construction projects, or to SKYLIGHT."

With that, Erebus managed to break through the security of one of the few remaining working holo-projectors in the room, sending to it visions from his recent past.

It had been a messy fight, in retrospect. In the moment, it had felt as though he'd been pressed very hard just to survive as Adam came for him, but now that he could watch the recorded footage of everything with the same critical eyes the men of the Russian cabinet were. He'd not been himself during that fight, he could see that now. He remembered fighting Hermes, months ago, feeling the same then.

Despite his outward resolve, he did not want to be fighting his former comrades. He did not want to kill them, but duty and his personal ethics demanded it. He watched himself desperately fend off Adam's strikes, until finally, luck had prevailed for him once more, and with a lightning-fast reversal, he'd sealed Adam's fate in two decisive blows. Erebus froze the footage there as the last gasp of pain and surprise escaped his lips.

"This Maverick called himself Adam. Actual name was Six Two Six-Bravo, his serial number in the 2nd RSF." The image was briefly covered by two schematics, one for Adam, and one for Erebus. "In the RSF program I was meant to lead units like 626-B into combat zones, and he was once meant to follow my orders. I have offered you schematics of all one thousand reploids in that command, with those who have been retired or re-purposed clearly marked. You can contact my government to confirm this."

All at once, the data pads in the hands of various leaders surrounding him lit up with a sudden stream of information flashing across their displays.

"Surely, this is all classified-"

"My interest is in stopping a war, not in maintaining state secrets regarding something that's been discarded as a liability." With his second data transmission completed, Erebus walked toward the holoprojection of his former comrade, unpausing the video, allowing the record of his final conversation with Adam to play out.

_"Your tactics changed rather suddenly. Why?" _626-B had asked.

_"Just following orders, you could say. If Nike wants me to find her, then I will."_

_"It's a submarine. Even I don't know its exact location now. I can tell you that when you finally do locate it, you'll have been too late."_

_"Explains a lot. So what's the plot? You've instigated a war, seemingly unavoidable at this point."_

_"It's nothing you aren't already intimately aware of, Former Commander. We're doing what our original mission dictates. Just as Apollo said."_

Erebus stopped the video once more.

"If this Maverick you mention, Nike, had her men on that island-" began the President.

"They were assisting the Maverick Vile. Nike is one of two command-class reploid to have survived Apollo's Rebellion in September. She was spotted months ago infiltrating MHHQ in New Tokyo. It's safe to assume her being found was deliberate on her part. Not long after the assault on your refinery, another former 2nd RSF member appeared in an attack on a JSDF military facility near Old Tokyo, stealing an experimental ride armor that would later be used by Vile in today's attack on Jeju-do. That Maverick was confirmed to have been working within the SKYLIGHT restoration project, having managed to bypass the multitudes of security checks that would potentially bar any Mavericks of lesser capability from getting so close to that weapon. This is something well within Nike's skill set. I have tried through official and unofficial channels to determine if there were any security breaches within the SKYLIGHT network, but so far have not met with any success. I would still err on the side of caution here." With his chin, he pointed to 626-B on the screen. "You can doubt as much as you'd like, but I am speaking to you as a former member of the unit these Mavericks hailed from. I know what they are capable of, and my government can confirm it. They did create us, after all."

"If Nike is so capable of bypassing security measures worldwide to allow her soldiers access to SKYLIGHT, why focus so much effort to attacks specifically in and around Asia?" One of the generals in the room chimed in. He seemed less bigoted than the admiral, sounding genuinely curious. "Arseny, our reploid expert in this cabinet, has made it abundantly clear to us that reploids of sufficient capability could bypass any known defenses to strike targets at their leisure. Could they not lay siege to GDC headquarters in Amsterdam?"

"I suspect they are limited by their resources, and by the location of the sub, which is likely to still be within the South China Sea-"

"If there _are _Mavericks with a submarine." The admiral's disbelief had only grown.

"-at this time, likely egressing from combat zone at their best possible speed." Erebus chose to not acknowledge the interruption overtly, seeing the man squirm from being ignored. "Regardless of her skills with her built-in talents, Nike still needs to have her body transmit within a certain range of her hacking targets to guarantee success, and her fellow Mavericks most likely do not have safe locations to resupply from outside of the sub itself. The Mavericks who struck in New York all died to the last man. In almost every other instance they have appeared in Asia, they made the effort to escape. Nike is only within safe range to deal with the warp network in this region. The Mavericks in New York chose to die, rather than reveal any potential staging areas that could compromise the rest of the operation. If her mission is to bring down the GDC, it would be meaningless if reploids did so. No cause of any kind could find sympathy if Maverick involvement is publicly known. She's counting on the human race to do that for her."

"Most fascinating. You are implying,"Chernyaev began, "that these Mavericks are in control of a submarine, of Chinese make, and are using it as their base of operations, and have used it against our navy to implicate the Chinese, in much the same way that they have used one of their transports to implicate them in an attack on our energen facility. That they have thus far evaded the intelligence agencies of three superpowers, and of the GDC, have possibly compromised the security of the warp network in order to travel freely across the globe, compromising the largest satellite weapon in existence, while having committed seemingly random, yet coordinated assaults on facilities around the world. All to start a war, all to discredit and destroy the GDC." He did not sound incredulous, he was merely running through the facts as he understood them. "Am I correct so far?"

"That is, more or less, the scenario I'm describing."

"It sounds to me," the Russian President said quietly, "that these Mavericks of yours are attempting to do the world a favor. A fascinating tale, if more than slightly improbable."

Erebus realized then and there that he may have lost this private war of his well before he'd even warped into this room.

"Regardless of how you feel about the GDC, this isn't a war starting because of a legitimate current grievance with the Chinese." Erebus said. "Though I'm beginning to suspect that doesn't matter to you. You already committed the first act of war by deploying Spetznaz into their territory."

"Only after all evidence we've been able to recover indicated they struck us first. Erebus, the entire body of your claims comprise of _nothing_ our own investigators have been able to uncover themselves." Chernyaev almost sounded fatherly now. "To us, it is your word against the word of men, women and reploids of the Russian Federation."

"Millions will die. Your citizens. Chinese."

"Perhaps even more than during the 2090's. We are surrounded by enemies, in Europe and in Asia. Our best allies are an ocean apart from us, and once served those who encircle us now. You are asking my nation to stand down against an imminent threat. Even if we did believe you, would that stop the Chinese build up at our borders?"

"It's worth trying."

"I did not think I would meet a reploid idealist in my time." Chernyaev's expression hardened. "I do not believe there is anything further to discuss, the matter is closed to you. Arseny will escort you to a holding facility, and we will inform your government you are in our custody. Goodbye, Erebus."

Erebus barely felt anything as Arseny pulled him away from the situation room, President Chernyaev turning away from him, not even bothering to make further eye contact, feigning greater interest elsewhere. The reploid was unconcerned that his arms had been left behind. He even toyed with the idea of self-destructing right then and there. Perhaps a strike at the heart of the Russian leadership would buy the rest of Vanguard some time to hunt down Nike and prevent the war, or perhaps shorten the war, but he discarded such thoughts almost as quickly as they had surfaced in his brain. Careless. Foolish.

He could hear the Russian reploid saying something to him, an apology, barely heard over the shouted commands from the other security guards. He allowed himself to be dragged and pushed along, his mind elsewhere on the network, looking for a way to turn things around back in his favor.

**Pacific Ocean**

Ricardo willed the AC-177 to fly faster, while acknowledging that will alone wouldn't accomplish a thing. If he wanted the heavy lift transport to reach it's maximum speed, they'd have to lose the many tons of foodstuffs it carried. Under the pretext of delivering emergency supplies to the stricken island of Jeju-do, the human members of Vanguard all hitched a ride as security for this transport, one of seven flying in a single file formation over the Pacific. Lenneth had arranged for this via her personal connections that still remained within the US Army. The Maverick Hunters were bringing in their own human units to assist rescue teams throughout the city of Seogwipo, and Lenneth thought it wise to bring over Vanguard's fleshbags.

It was possible to warp most emergency supplies, but different nations had different rules about how to handle food transport. Korea was one of many countries against the use of warp technology on 'human sustenance goods', citing the very real effects of warp on the human mind and body as their primary concern. It made sense to the paranoid and extremely vocal detractors of the warp technology.

Ricardo did not care so much about the supplies, nor about the controversy surrounding methods of transport, his thoughts focused on something intensely personal.

_Come on, Hilde. Answer my calls._

The first word out of people on the ground was that she'd gone MIA, along with Kindle. He accepted that death was going to be part of the work, but having it brush so close to his own life this early into Vanguard's existence had shaken him. As they boarded the transport, he'd not spoken a word, and the others had seen fit not to bother him about it.

Word passed not long after take off that she and Kindle had been recovered alive, though in Kindle's case it was still an ongoing fight to keep it that way. Apparently, he'd managed to shield Hilde during the collapse of a skyscraper. It sounded ridiculous, totally unbelievable, but reploids were built to do what by human standards would be impossible.

Elated, Ricardo tried contacting her immediately on her private line. He'd been trying for over an hour now.

_She's okay Rick, so you don't need to bother her. She's doing the job she was assigned, it's not like they'd lie to you about her being alive, or that she's ignoring you._

Despite telling himself this, he found himself thinking about his relationship with her, personally and professionally. She once told him that he treated her nicer than any man she'd ever met, that he made her feel needed beyond just her abilities.

_Yeah, but I can't throw myself in front a building to protect her._

As a designated marksman and point-man in her squad, he was slower, by a wide margin, than any reploid in Vanguard. His very birth made him a liability in combat against machines of the likes they were on the hunt for even now. Slower, and nowhere near as resilient, something that could be broken like so much glass in the hands of a reploid. His strength, while exceptional for a human thanks to his training, paled compared to the woman whose bed he shared. If he compared himself to Kindle, the gap between them would have been funny if it wasn't plain sad.

There was no way to deny any of that. Reading the after-action reports that were being filed away by Vanguard reploids only reinforced in his mind the deficiencies he faced for being human.

There were ways to change that, none of it cheap. Prosthesis was one of the many technologies that saw improvements with the advances in robotics. It became necessary. Traditional prosthetic limbs took weeks to fully acclimate with, time away from the frontlines in the 2090's that simply could not be afforded. Casualty counts had been high, so more and more soldiers found themselves getting back into the fight with limbs replaced and fully operational in days. The tech had to improve just to keep up.

And then there were those who voluntarily gave up their limbs, to shoot straighter, to run and jump faster and farther.

Tempting thoughts, interrupted by the ringing of smart phone. He fished the small egg-like device out of his pocket fast enough that he nearly dropped it. Pressing a small flashing green symbol on the egg, light streamed from it, showing Hilde's face staring back at his. Feelings he was told he should not have for a reploid while growing up swelled within his mind.

He really missed her, more than anything. He hated knowing she was in danger and he wasn't. Hilde could take care of herself, he knew that, but he wanted to share the risks with her more than anything.

"Uh..." He began.

"Hey." Hilde's face, sculpted and artificial as it might have been, covered in dirt and grime, it was still beautiful to look at.

"Hi."

"I meant to call you sooner, but-"

"No, it's fine, really. I was-"

"Sorry," they said together.

They both stopped to take in a breath, to compose themselves.

"I'm glad you're alright." Ricardo said, once the silence had grown unbearable. "I've been trying to get a hold of you. Worryin' me like that." He shook his head. "The news only made it sound a lot worse."

"Debriefing, followed by a new briefing." She looked away for a moment. "Kindle-"

"I heard. We owe him."

Another awkward silence.

"It was horrible, Ricky." Any semblance of calm composed Hilde threatened to vanish for a moment, her expression one of holding back great sorrow. "We failed to stop 'em. They got away with all this. Again."

"You're alive."

"I'm not more important than-" Hilde cut herself off. "Glad you weren't here."

"Oh?"

"I don't know if I could have protected you. I only lucked out myself, I-" She looked away from the camera for a moment, distracted by someone. Eventually, he could hear Lenneth in the background, giving final instructions to Hilde, something about deploying to Mount Hallasan. "Something's going on. Signas of the Maverick Hunters got called back to Amsterdam for some emergency session. He wouldn't say anything to Lenneth when she pressed him on the issue, but every Hunter commander has clammed up since he left."

"Maybe something to do with Russia and China?" Ricardo ventured. "News nets are buzzing about the increased deployments at the shared border. GDC isn't even trying to mediate at this point. And of course throughout all this, our own boss has skipped town to play hero."

"He's got good reasons to have done so and you know it." Hilde said defensively.

"I know, I heard his briefing. I'm not sayin' anything, I'm just sayin'."

"Anyway, in the meantime, Vanguard's been tasked to help them pick up some slack around here. I'm moving out in five minutes. Lenneth is taking command of Bravo team temporarily, and I'm to accompany her with Alpha and the people from the 1st RSF. Apparently there's a potential intel goldmine on Hallasan we're supposed to do a joint investigation of with the Hunters-"

"Hallasan?"

"It's a volcano, the dormant centerpiece to this island? You ever take Geography while studying for that shiny Criminal Justice degree of yours?"

"First of all, it's just a Bachelors. Second, yes I did take Geo, it just didn't cover every fine detail. Not that I'd remember, anyway."

"Uh huh."

"You reploids and your constant connections to the 'net, your warping around. No wonder I can't keep up with you." There was a trace of bitterness that seeped into his voice there, and she quickly caught on to that.

"You don't have to keep up with me, you know."

"You think so?"

"I know so. You're fine as is." She moved closer to the camera, which made the holo projection of her look odd, only able to show her purple eyes. "Don't even consider what I think you're thinking."

"You're psychic too?"

"No, just your concerned girlfriend." She frowned. "You looked unhappy seeing me off."

"It just reminded me that I can't do what I want to do most, and that's to be there with you on the front lines. If you're needed in a hurry, I get to sit at home and wait for a phone call or email."

"There aren't any enhancements that make warp technology safe for humans," Hilde had begun to raise her voice. She was a lot more observant of him than he'd given her credit. She knew.

"But there are those that exist that could make me more effective at the job I do right now." he began to protest. "I _can_ be made a better shot. I _can_ be made to run faster and farther. If I had been there with you, those enhancements could give me a fighting chance at not slowing you down."

"We're Vanguard, not the SEALS or Homeland Security Special Activities Division," she snapped. "Prosthetics like those...I don't want you near them. Period. I'm drawing a line." Pulling away, Hilde's figure drew a line across the camera with her right index finger. "See that, Designated Marksman? You do not pass this line, you do not collect two hundred dollars! Clear?"

"I gotcha, I gotcha." He sighed. "I didn't even say-"

"Asshole. Like I haven't been hanging around you long enough to know what you're feeling by listening to you." She looked hurt, gritting her teeth now. "You listen to me. You're fine the way you are right now, and you better stay that way, okay? Nip the thought in the bud now, mister." Hilde took a moment to calm herself down, brushing some of her hair out of her eyes and wiping away at the dirt on her face. "You're trying to make me cry, aren't you? I don't wanna hear you telling me you're 'just not good enough' after I've had a fucking building dropped on me and one of my best friends."

"It's just difficult for me. It's selfish, and I'm sorry." Ricardo unconsciously thumbed the safety of his mag-rifle off and on again. "All I want is just to share the risk. Hearing what happened...I was scared. More than I was back in September. I hate not being there. I hate this feeling."

"When it was all going to hell, I just wanted to see you one more time. I thought that was it." She leaned closer to the holo-cam once more, whispering now. "I love you, damnit. You don't have to have rocket feet like I do to reciprocate that. You know better."

"Love you too."

"Yeah? Prove it."

"I'll drop the prosthetic thinking."

"Promise? You better believe I'll hold you to it."

"I'll also say 'I'm sorry'. A lot."

"I'll start collecting on that when-" Hilde was suddenly distracted by something on her end, looking away, and nodding at whomever it was that had gotten her attention. "Kick-off time, Ricky. Little earlier than I'd like. See you soon."

"Of course."

"...I still wanna talk more about this later."

She was gone after that, her projected image was replaced by a frowning face icon indicating the call had ended, and that he was currently collecting roaming charges from having made the call outside of his service area.

"Well, I fucked that up." Ricardo said to no-one in particular, pocketing the phone and feeling generally disgusted with himself.

"Yep. You sure did."

The marksman spun around so fast on the cargo container he was using for a seat that he fell off, much to the amusement of Lars Wilder. The man had snuck up behind Ricardo at some point during the call, he suspected. How, he wasn't sure.

"How long?"

"Since the bit where you admitted you were considering prosthesis."

"You say that like you figured that out a while ago." Ricardo squinted at the blond squad leader.

"Just a guess," Lars admitted. Ricardo threw his hands up into the air out of frustration.

"Am I the only person in Vanguard who's not a psychic?"

"Maybe." Lars leaned over to offer Ricardo a hand climbing back atop the container. "Well, it took you until now to even talk to her about it, so I doubt you're gonna tell lil ol' me."

"Right again. Open a fortune telling shop, while you're at it!"

"I might."

**Moscow**

"An interesting reploid, that one," Chernyaev muttered, more to himself, but loud enough that he was heard by the rest of the room. He found himself thinking about Erebus' hypothesis, the earnest manner he'd conducted himself in. Even as his various advisers poured over action plans conceived years before today, plans he himself had authorized to be part of a 'initial response' to renewed Chinese aggression, he found his attentions evenly divided between them and the data the reploid had left behind.

Perhaps, under different circumstances, in a different world, he might have deigned to give more consideration to the theory presented. As a man who fought for his country in a short, but exceedingly bloody war with its neighbor to the south, who watched as the world once again had turned Russia into a political scapegoat, he saw the opportunities before him as more important than any other truth that could be presented, the potential gains possibly enough to offset what his nation would lose on the path that he and his government had set it upon.

The cost still turned his stomach, but he'd not been voted into office for his compassionate gestures to the Chinese. He'd given his nation purpose over the course of decades, helped it rise from the humiliation of that war, to stand strong again while the world plotted around it.

"Of that reploid, what do we tell the Americans?" CINC-East asked his president.

"Only that this reploid of theirs came to us with an interesting theory regarding the attack on our energen facility. The schematics on his kind are too useful to ignore. I am not without courtesy when it comes to gifts."

"How dare he break into this room! And what of our security measures? Did Arseny allow this?" The admiral was still rather heated over the whole affair. "They are fortunate to not have been retired on the spot!"

"Fortunate that you hold no sway over their fate." Chernyaev watched with satisfaction as the man withered under his own gaze. "We need the Americans as allies. Killing one of their agents, even if he is a reploid, would not be seen in a positive light."

"What if it is true, Konstantin?" East asked. "What if Mavericks are truly responsible for all this?"

"That truth is irrelevant. China has been allowed to act a focal point of GDC aggression towards non-aligned powers. As it was during the 2090's, during the Unification Wars. Never again." Reflexively, he clenched his teeth, almost snarling those words. He could still remember those days, steeling his resolve even now. "General Grishenko, I need updates on the situation at the border, and on our forces inside Chinese territory."

"Yes sir." CINC-East activated his datapad to begin his briefing, only to be stopped when it began to ring insistently. Annoyance clear on his face, he stabbed at the touchscreen, addressing the caller. "Central, Grishenko."

"Major Sevchenko, Sofrino Station." The lady officer's face appeared on the data pad, looking positively frightened and drenched in sweat. "A situation is developing inside China."

That got everyone's attention. CINC-East cleared his throat. "Explain."

"Satellite CORONA M-2501 detected four large scale explosions within China, all occurring simultaneously two minutes ago. One was within twenty kilometers of the shared border inside a PLA facility on the outskirts of Chunhauzhen, west of Vladivostok. Intelligence has confirmed it was staging area for the PLA 26th Armored Division."

"Was?"

"There is nothing we determine to be of use remaining of the facility."

"And the other targets?"

"The cities of Changchun, Nanjing, and Beijing, sir."

**Wangqing, China**

For Oleg Morozoy, the city of Wangqing was more meaningful to him than it was to others of the 8th OSN. A grandfather he'd never met had fought as the commanding officer of an armored division somewhere within the city limits during the 2090's wars, one of the older officers in the military at the time. Friends of the senior Morozoy had visited Oleg as a child, telling him of the bravery he'd displayed, riding the lead tank of his formations, a sort throwback to the media-driven heroic images of a commissar leading his troops on horseback. He was described to young Oleg as fearless, a lion among men. He'd been rewarded for it with the Order of Alexander Nevsky. Posthumously.

The life and battles of Valentin Morozoy had brought focus to the boy, a reverence for the military, what it did for his country. Living in the shadow of a real hero in his family, and a father desperately trying to push him towards something 'safer', like foreign intelligence, motivated him to reach for something greater than the typical college life, followed by ten hour days at some office for the next forty years of his life.

He looked around himself for a moment, trying to find the other members of his team. They were no longer among the trees tops in the artificial forests surrounding Wangqing, a large number of cameras and motion sensors discouraged that. For the moment, his whole squad was prone on the ground, slowly crawling towards the perimeter fence surrounding the target facility, approaching from the west. It had honestly been too easy to get this close, which had every man on edge for possible ambush from optically cloaked reploids or soldiers that seemed to be missing. The sensors on the armor indicated no external resistance, so for the moment, Morozoy held his squad in position, waiting for the other squads to set up guard positions to cover his infiltration team. He would lead three others from his eight man squad into the facility to reconnoiter it in greater detail. The other four would be setting up the means to help them escape should things go sour.

On the outskirts of the city lay their target, the Wangqing Reploid Experimental Tactics Research and Development Center. For all intents and purposes, it shared a resemblance with many modern military installations. Hardened bunkers and hangars dotted the flat surface, with minimal activity that could be seen from the outside, the occasional three man patrol seen making their rounds between structures. The seemingly relaxed state of the facility meant little; the real work was deep underground. Sudden movements of men and material to the location had caught the attentions of planners in Moscow, with year and after year of expansions to the facility, it was reason enough to make it a target.

Despite the hangars, there was no short runway that could handle transport planes or attack jets, meaning the base likely hosted VTOL polycraft within those hangars. The roads leading to it extended to the city proper, the probable source of supplies the base needed. It'd be simple enough to lock down if the need arose.

Other teams were discreetly looking into alternative transport. Should a footrace become necessary to win, they stood a good chance of losing. Though they couldn't see evidence of them now, it wouldn't take long for reploids to warp directly to the surface and begin pursuit, once an alarm was raised. Even with the EM field generators one of the teams was setting up around the base, it'd only slow down reploids and communications to upper command echelons, buying them minutes at best.

"Two minutes," he whispered into the microphone located within his helmet. The others clicked their own mics twice, confirming their readiness.

Unlike reploids, humans like Oleg could not mount an internal power source that could power therm-optic camouflage indefinitely. Putting it on the armor would have made it heavier, and would have sacrificed maneuverability. They'd only be able to remain cloaked in short bursts, allowing them to move from cover to cover, but that was it. Most of the infiltration would need to be done the old fashioned way. Conditions were not ideal, but the orders were clear. If a Chinese invasion was imminent, and there was no reason to believe it wasn't, then the intelligence that could be found inside of the facility would have been akin to striking gold or oil-

"Sergeant! Look!" One of his corporals pointed emphatically to the skies above the facility.

Phasing through the ground, beams of light streaked into the morning, climbing quickly out of sight.

"It's warplight." Morozoy whispered. "How many you think?"

"Too many to count. Where are they headed?" Too many potential locations could be named. Feeling his heart race, Morozoy switched to the primary net of his unit detachment.

"Watchmen 2-1 to all units this net, be advised, have spotted large number of warp signatures egressing from objective, break. Assume objective has gone into alert status, over." The unit commander, Colonel Fyodor, was in the field along with the others, but his own squad was located a mile away from the actual objective, providing sniper cover from an elevated position.

"Copy your last. Informing command immediately. Weapons are free, say again, weapons are free, action in self defense is authorized. All Watchmen elements hold-hold-hold and await further orders. Out."

Colonel Fyodor rarely sounded this worried in the field. He was privy to certain communications nets the rest of the unit were not, and actions like this were being undertaken throughout China near the shared border. More disturbing was the permission to fire on hostile targets.

"What the fuck does he want us to do? We can practically touch the perimeter fences from here." The corporal voicing his exasperation was not alone. It was a sentiment shared by the entire squad for good reason. Hesitation this close to the objective could get people killed. They had to commit to the infiltration now, or fall back, or run risk being detected before it was decided either way.

"Just stay put, and wait for orders. Something's changed, we just do not know what."

**Amsterdam, The Netherlands**

Signas occasionally wished he could revert to the cold, impersonal way he'd been when he arrived in New Tokyo back in 2131 with one simple command. It would have made it much easier for him to stand in front of every GDC national representative to tell them 'no'. He could not, and would not commit a single Maverick Hunter under his direct command to the exclusive defense of one nation. Signas never had the chance to work alongside of James Cain, but took the time to read about him, learn of him from the Hunters who'd lived through his era. The man would have been positively livid about all this.

He was nervous, but did not let it show. He had no way of knowing how the Council would react. He could very well have walked himself into early retirement. Still, he found solace that when he'd informed the Hunters in Jeju-do of his intentions, they had given him their support.

"They'll crucify you, lad." Spencer warned the reploid for the third time since greeting him outside of the main council chambers. "The UK, France, Germany, Switzerland, Poland, Finland, and Belgium will be the first countries to send 'an appropriate response to the growing threat to our Chinese allies', should the measure pass the Security Council. No national representative has raised a single motion to object to the proposed deployment of GDC forces, my own included. It's all but decided, and they will leverage this against you, Signas. There aren't enough people in that room who owe me the sort of favors to save you if this goes badly. Remember that."

"Has this been televised?"

"A prepared statement is being read by the SMOC Chairman and the Secretary General as we speak."

"The Maverick Hunters have had a colorful history with the Special Military Oversight Committee and the GDC as a whole." Signas kept his own misgivings out of his voice, keeping the calm he'd been born to maintain under all circumstances. "I imagine I will be doing nothing more than adding to that history in a way that falls in line with the actions of my predecessor."

The former SAS man began to respond, but was interrupted by the buzzing of his smartphone, tapping the small implant in the lobe of his right ear to take the call. His expression shifted between annoyed to shock within seconds of taking the call.

"When was this?" He managed to ask, frowning with the lengthy response. "I see. Thank you. Keep me apprised."

"What was that about?"

"Multiple explosions in China. Four to be exact. BNSC confirms all occurred near or within civilian populations. Beijing was one of the targets, Tiananmen Square to be precise. We have no way of knowing the full extent of the damage or casualties at this time."

Within the council chambers, a low rumble of voices could be heard. Perhaps the Chinese delegates had just been informed, and were in the process of informing the rest of the council? Signas reeled from the unreality of it all. How scripted and convenient it all felt. They would demand his co-operation, more emphatically than ever.

His answer to them could not change. It wouldn't.

Silently, Signas put feelers out into the Net, seeking out the American reploid who'd gambled his life to enter Russia, to try and prevent all of this. No reply, on any of their agreed channels.

_One minute until midnight. I don't believe anything short of smashing the clock will stop this now._

**Moscow**

Erebus stopped walking, prompting one of his human escorts to shove him hard enough that he toppled towards the ground, caught by Arseny just before his head impacted with the carpeted floor. He felt none of this, focused on what he could hear said throughout the halls of the facility. The few news networks he could access only confirmed everything.

_No no no no no this is not happening, there must be something I can do, something _we _can do-_

Nike was going to win.

_Damage control, damage control._

He reached out to Lenneth through the Electrosphere, 'seeing' barriers fold into place, blocking his attempts to communicate with her. He sliced through those defenses, only to see more appear in place, the whole time understanding why humans sought comfort in religion.

**Jeju-do  
****Mount Hallasan**

The news had broken shockingly quick over networks the world over, and Lenneth knew she hadn't been the only in the joint investigation team to take notice. Even as she directed the prep for the micro-submersibles that would take Vanguard and Hunters alike to the depths of Baengnokdam, she could pick up on the on the hushed whispers that coursed through the group. She weighed whether or not she should reign them in, return their focus back to the work that lay ahead-

**LENNETH COMMAND COMMS SECURE NOW **scrolled across her HUD, and she knew immediately who it was.

In her mind, the secured channel she shared with Erebus was a small, white spherical room with two seats floating across from each other. Erebus had designed the visualization himself, but had yet to disclose why he'd chosen this particular appearance. Her avatar looked exactly as she did in the physical world, taking a seat. Across from her, the seat was empty.

_"Erebus?"_

_"-apprehend-"_

Erebus appeared in the seat with a flash, his form distorted, flickering into a pixelated mass occasionally.

_"Rrrrreeee- reee- reeeeesollllllllllll- resolvinglocaljammingsignal-" _ His form vanished, then flashed back into existence. _"Self modulating e-barriers, very tricky. Where's Signas? I can't reach him, there are a lot of nets I'm blocked from."_

_"Amsterdam, meeting with the GDC assembly right now. What the hell is going on, Erebus? Are you watching the news nets?"_

_"I know. I've failed. I'm going to be held in custody by the Russians. It's likely that they'll inform our government, and I either rot in a cell, get retired, or someone comes and gets me out."_

_"They did not listen?"_

_"They did. They just don't care. Nobody really does. They think they have it under control, they want to use this to their advantage. Russia already has troops in China. Spetznaz."_

_"Then we've already failed, if they are discovered..."_

_"Nike probably never needed to even be so elaborate, but she knew exactly what she was exploiting, and the Russians only helped her with this." _He locked eyes with Lenneth. _"Don't have much time, two requests. First: I've compiled everything I've learned from the Russians as part of a master file, excluding knowledge about their special forces in China. Secure it, by any means necessary."_

_"What about General Culverson? He's in our chain of command."_

_"What about him?" _Erebus sneered.

_"Indeed." _Lenneth chuckled. _"Next?"_

_"Can you go to China? Beijing specifically, and soon."_

_"Are you serious?"_

_"Lenneth, right now there are two hundred and thirty known orbital mass drivers surrounding this planet, and a little under half of them belong to both the Chinese and the Russians. I am deadly serious, we are hours, maybe minutes, away from a shooting war."_

_"Erebus, you and I both know the moment I crack the security barriers of their warp-net and managed to enter China, without proper authorization, especially right now-"_ An aerial image blinked into existence next to her, one of Beijing._ "The Forbidden City is a crater. What do you possibly believe I can accomplish?"_

_"Maybe you are right. Maybe we have done all we can." _His expression softened. _"Lenneth, there's a real chance I'm not leaving Moscow any time soon. I'm sorry to be using you as a proxy in all this. I'd send Hilde but she's next in line to command Vanguard if it all goes sideways. It has to be you."_

Before she could protest further, his image froze once more and faded away, leaving her alone on their private network. In that moment, the former General hated Erebus more than when he revealed that he'd known she would lose her command. She also respected him, for his willingness to put so much on the line for a cause he believed in. She understood why he was willing to put himself in danger, and even knew why she was being treated an acceptable potential loss. They were both former RSF, just like the Mavericks they were chasing. The program had managed to produce some of the worst terrorists in history.

He carried that burden and refused to speak of it to anyone, and that worried Lenneth.

In reality, the conversation had lasted for less than a second, but Lenneth's body seemed to freeze in place during that time. When she 'awoke' once more, Hilde stood before her. She was observant enough to understand what Lenneth had been doing.

"Who were you talking to, ma'am?"

"Erebus. Something has gone very wrong. I may be leaving here very shortly, which will make you the ranking commander for all of Vanguard here in Seogwipo."

"I- We've all been watching the news, ma'am. Does he need our help?"

"Possibly." Lenneth pulled the shorter reploid by the wrist towards her, simultaneously pulling out a wire connection from her neck and jabbing it into a dataport just behind Hilde's right ear. A split second later the cable whipped away, sliding back into its proper place with a gentle click.

"What the-"

"I've given you an access key to the command network Erebus and I share, as well as a certain data package. If something should happen to me, use the access key to open those files. I am certain he would want you to have know to everything he has been sharing with me."

"Hard-line connection, wasn't expecting that. You ought to ask first." Hilde shook her head, shivering reflexively. It wasn't the physical contact that had shaken her, it was the speed of which it all happened. Lenneth was much faster than her frame let on. "What is it with my commanding officers doing their own damned thing?"

"Perhaps someday you can join our exclusive little club." Shaking her head, Hilde marched off. Lenneth immersed herself in the network once more. For him, she would try.

**Amsterdam, The Netherlands**

The room had quieted down to whispers when Signas entered, the bureaucrats still making deals and promises of dubious worth even as the reploid marched his way to the central podium. The Old Man had escorted him into the chamber, along with two armed guards. Holocams hovered around the room, and his eyes could make out the network logos on the side of the dozens swarming the room, jockeying for position. In his mind, he could see himself on those data streams, reporters giving their own narration in a dozen different languages. Experts worldwide debating what had been said, predicting what would be said.

Signas would hear the emergency request of the GDC Special Military Oversight Committee before an audience of millions worldwide. As he was designed to do, he would follow those orders. It would be an unprecedented shift in the role of the Maverick Hunters, but one a surprising number branches within the organization would accept. Many nations that quartered Maverick Hunters within their borders built the reploids that joined. There would be protests, sure. MHHQ New Tokyo would likely suffer the loss of a majority of it's personnel. Signas was a commander of thousands of, he could stand to lose a couple hundred combat personnel, even if they were the elite among elites. Reploids were still considered expendable at best, after all. They didn't have to be S-class.

After this the GDC would, in a show of solidarity, warn Russia of impending consequences for its actions. The first foreign troops to land on Chinese soil in defense of their ally would begin shipping out. Russia would be all but isolated from the world, with AmeriCanada being oceans away, flanked by GDC member states on all sides.

Johnathan Spencer looked at Signas for a moment longer, his expression grave, his mouth moving silently before he turned away from the reploid to take his seat among the members of the SMOC, next to Secretary-General of the GDC.

_Good luck._

The Chinese member of the SMOC, a woman in her late forties, looked as though she'd been weeping, suffering in silence for the sake of appearances, the tears that had fallen on her perfectly pressed business suit still drying, catching the light from the cameras flashing in the room. How many colleagues did she know who may have perished only minutes before? Family? Friends? Next to her, the Chinese National Representative, a severe looking man, younger than the woman by perhaps a decade. He looked comparatively emotionless, but how he clenched to the corners of his podium tightly enough to turn his knuckles white said otherwise. They were the first to greet him as he approached the center of the chamber. A deliberate choice, Signas knew. Handshakes and smiles from the other SMOC reps, all insincere to be certain.

Finally, he stood before them at parade rest behind his designated podium, and it was then that the scenario was outlined for him. There were (un)confirmed reports that Chinese vessels had been attacked before the Russian mass driver strike in the South China Sea, that much he understood. During the last hour, the Chinese military had been put on maximum alert for any potential hostilities, citing a marked increase of readiness on the Russian side of the border. Then came the bombs, confirmed to be Wide Area Denial Mines after analysis by the European Space Agency.

Military analysis confirmed the detonations to match known Russian yields for such weapons, which meant little. Such devices of any scale did not use radioactive isotopes that could be traced to known stocks of nuclear weapons. At best, they were saying that the explosions could be compared to the weapons Russia used to eliminate armored divisions on their own soil in the 2090's, which could also be compared to the types of mines the Chinese used in retaliation.

It was confirmed just as Signas had entered the room that the greater civilian central government of People's Republic of China had been destroyed along with the entirety of Tienanmen Square, including many high ranking military command personnel. There were rules in place for transfer of power in the event a number of deaths on the food chain, but not to this degree. There was no one alive and with significant influence to object to the fact that the military now steered China's course, not even their GDC representatives could change that.

Nor would they. It was a clear act of aggression, and given the day's events, there was no reason for anyone to suspect otherwise. The GDC would follow China into war. As such, the Maverick Hunters, having fallen under the jurisdiction of the SMOC in the wake of Signas' own placement as their commander, were being requested into a 'merely defensive' role, around key 'strategic armaments' that happened to be close to Sino-Russian border. They would not be used on the offensive, and likely would not need to be.

Stone-faced, Signas only nodded curtly as the committee before him continued to describe how the Hunters would be distributed throughout China, how they would fall under the command of regional commanders or unit officers, depending on their station. Chinese Maverick Hunters were assumed to have already made their decision to serve their home government. They carefully danced around anything to do with units stationed in AmeriCanada, or the units that Russia had already ordered into general military service. A bridge to be crossed once they got there, nothing to be concerned with.

It was important that he agreed to this plan. Sensible really. All Signas had to do, as the commander of all Maverick Hunters worldwide, was just say 'yes' and they could begin making the necessary arrangements.

"According to records obtained by a Maverick Hunter who once served my organization," Signas began, "the People's Liberation Army was set on building it's own reploid military units. A hundred thousand, to be exact, who are in service today. Am I correct?"

"Yes, but that hardly-" the Chinese rep started to reply, but stopped when Signas raised a hand sharply, expression still neutral.

"That's a number that exceeds what I have at my disposal by a significant amount. We've perhaps a total of seventeen hundred combat capable personnel worldwide. We had more, only to have that taken away from us almost as as quickly as we received it. Budget cuts, I'm sure you understand." Signas leaned away from the podium, looking up to the roof of the building. A small icon blinked at him at the corner of his vision, a message via a channel he'd set aside at Erebus' request.

**Important. **

**-Lenneth, Vanguard**

The file she'd sent was compressed, but otherwise lacked any form of security. No encryption, no special passwords, nothing. It had been created with ease of access in mind. He knew much of what was in the file, and the things he didn't know reminded him that he was in a room surrounded by people who likely knew far less than he did.

"What difference would seventeen hundred Maverick Hunters make?"

"The Russian Federation, and other non-aligned nations, retain the largest arsenals of space-borne weapons of mass destruction," the representative insisted. "Our reploids serve as a deterrent to their use."

"And you believe the Hunters should be part of that deterrent." Signas nodded. "Today, we've been reminded of the horrific nature of orbital mass drivers. Strange to think that merely eleven days ago, none of this had been public concern." He circled around the podium, moving to take the center of the stage. "May I speak freely?"

"You already are." The official stepped back from his podium as Signas drew closer. The guards that had escorted the reploid into the council chambers visibly tensed, but otherwise remained at attention.

"This year, reploids from the United States military staged a rebellion in the city of Los Angeles. We all remember this. They stated concerns with GDC policies, and what reploid wouldn't have those? Most would not act on those concerns. Most are content to live a life of service. These ones acted on their rebellious thoughts, and they were retired for it. Some escaped. I wonder just how many men and women in this room right now know that these Mavericks have been running free throughout the world, ever since that day in September."

Spencer, sitting amidst the SMOC members, chanced a look around him. He saw a mixture of confusion and anger, but no one moved to interrupt the reploid as he spoke.

"Perhaps you already know," Signas continued. "Perhaps you know that on the first of this month, the attack on the Russian energen facility could not have been perpetrated by Russians themselves, for crippling their own production of one of the most valuable resources on the planet would be a foolish way to wage war. Perhaps we all know that the Chinese, given their history of animosity towards Russia, would not stoop to striking a single refinery if they truly intended committing to hostilities, they would not have stopped there. Or perhaps you don't know that." He turned his back on the committee, addressing the rest of the council directly now.

"These Mavericks are responsible for the attacks in New York, New Tokyo, and Jeju-do. Allies from the United States have presented to me recorded confession of their naval capability, one submarine. Perhaps it is coincidence that the Russian navy was attacked in the South China Sea by a lone submarine, which has lead to the here and now. Or perhaps not."

"Signas, this is hardly-" a SMOC member began to interject, cut short when Signas whirled upon him as though he were prepared to face an enemy.

"I am not finished, representative." His voice thundered throughout the chambers, and he paused in the ensuing silence to recompose himself. "I have made available all of the evidence my American contacts have gathered since the first of this month on a server accessible from the GDC's public access network site, all of it pertaining to these Mavericks and their plot to incite global war. It is, admittedly, imperfect. It is open to interpretation, which I suppose makes it similar to the evidence you have used to come to this decision today."

The chambers rumbled with conversation among the politicians. Some members of the Oversight Committee visibly squirmed in their seats. Signas could see it all with clarity no human eyes could manage. He could see the hundreds of individual reactions from each council member. Some began rapidly tapping away at their flat panel displays, their curiosity in this data thoroughly piqued.

"Will you, or will you not shift control of the Maverick Hunters to my military?" The Chinese representative shouted, his composure failing him.

"Will I place my men and women in a situation that less than a decade ago, this very room would have snuffed out the lives of all my kind over? Will I forget the purpose of the Maverick Hunters to fight a war that is not of our choosing, against people we once protected without consideration of their skin color, their nationality, their religion? A war that could kill tens of millions, over evidence that is faulty at best, ignoring facts that call into question the very motivations behind these recent events? A war that, despite being prepared to wage, neither belligerent is actually willing to start? Am to accept the fact that this entire council, a _collection _ numbering in the hundreds of humans, holding the the fate of _billions_ in their grasp, is so eager to forget the lessons of the 2090's?"

The politician nodded slowly, his teeth clenched. He was furious now, and he too already knew the answer Signas was to give.

"No. I will not turn control of the Maverick Hunters to the GDC, to China, or to any one nation. I reject this request just as my predecessor would have. We are a civilian organization, our purpose was never to fight wars for humanity against humans." He grinned wryly. "Perhaps the name should have tipped you off to that."

"These are lawful orders presented to you by your superiors in this organization! It is your duty to follow those orders," a member of the committee sputtered. "You will be arrested! Tried, convicted before you even set foot in a court!"

Next to that woman, Spencer sat with a smile on his face.

_Good lad. He's a good lad._

"Will you arrest me on international networks, broadcasting live from this gathering?" Signas replied coolly. "It is the duty of any soldier, reploid or human, to call into question orders they are not comfortable with. These are not orders issued by those fit for a military command, lawful or not." He snapped off a crisp salute to the stunned men and women before him. "I've said all there is to say." Turning on his heel, the commander of all Maverick Hunters marched stiffly out of the room, the low murmurs, turning into shouted challenges and accusations.

Some called him Maverick, which almost made him halt in place. It surprised him how angry it made him to have someone even dare to question his loyalties, to say he was the very thing he was created to lead soldiers against.

And then he heard one voice above the others, a representative from South America, demanding to know why the GDC was attempting to take a civilian organization and turn it into another component of the military. When others attempted to shout him down, several more stood in his defense.

Satisfied, Signas continued out of the room, contacting Lenneth.

_"I've done what I can, let us hope it is enough."_

**Moscow**

"What _do_ we know about the explosions?" President Chernyaev hadn't looked at all shaken by the sudden news. If anything, he appeared to be deep in thought, the scowl on his face only growing sharper. It was an interesting sight to see, the aging men in control of Russia huddled around a single datapad in order to get a look at the data the officer was feeding onto the screen.

"Four in total, non-nuclear," the Major chose to start with, which earned audible sighs of relief. "Our best guess right now is that the weapons used were Wide Area Denial Mines, video matches known Chinese yields of such weapons. One per stricken target, we believe the mines were detonated above ground, explaining the clean double-pulse plasma front signature of each detonation recorded by the satellite. We've confirmed that Tiananmen Square was at the center of the Beijing blast."

"Merciful God," the Admiral gasped.

"And a known staging area for Chinese troops close to the shared border, Chunhauzhen, was one of the targets? Is this absolutely certain?"

"Yes, Mr. President. We are unable to determine the extent of the damage just yet, but we estimate significant loss to materiel and manpower from the division stationed there."

"This is a little extreme for a false flag operation, would we not agree?" CINC-East looked his President in the eyes for an instant. "Has Sofrino Station detected any significant or suspicious movement of Chinese military assets before, during, or after these events?"

"Warp Network traffic in China saw a marked increase, but we're unable to confirm anything further at this time, all of our remote assets through their primary networks have been silent since the Chinese went dark."

"Dark?"

"They have shut down all external connections to the Net, including their geosynchronous Warp Network satellites. We're also seeing a great deal of orbital course corrections from all known PLA space-borne assets at this time- Wait one." The Major literally sprinted off screen. There was was shouting that could be heard in the background, and then she slid back into view, remarkably calm considering what she was about to say.

"Chinese orbital mass drivers have been detected releasing their payload, we are unable to determine the exact targets at this time."

**Jeju-do**

If someone had told X two years before that he would have grown to respect Signas as a superior officer, had it been said on one of his worse days he might have assaulted the messenger, or at least would have threatened to. He could not help smiling after watching the live broadcast from Amsterdam.

"Cain would have liked that, I think," he said.

"It's a small win. We'll take it." The Crimson Hunter nodded in agreement.

They would have to. The bottom line was that now the GDC had an excuse to flat out refuse to support the Hunters in any capacity. Funding would be cut, without a doubt. Though many Hunters did the work because they wanted to, they needed to be paid, and they needed to be maintained. Logistics would be problematic. The GDC could yank away access to the thousands of military-grade surveillance platforms in orbit around the planet, seriously damaging their ability to gather intelligence on any hotspot they were called to.

X's helmet buzzed with an incoming call. Alia had already established herself as something akin to a 'mother hen' to the 17th, having taken it upon herself to set up the networks she'd need to stay in constant communication with each Hunter in the unit. She was already fairly upset with him for having deployed on such short notice without informing her of it, but was smart enough to stop short of saying that her data-mining skill might have changed things on Jeju-do. He didn't like Navigators on principle, but appreciated what drove those like Alia to care so damned much about their job. He was certain there would be a heated discussion regarding her status and just exactly how much she needed to know when he returned to New York.

_"Commander X, China just locked down their entire Network."_ Alia sounded almost panicked. _"I've never seen anything like this, even simulated!"_

That WAS a legitimately bad thing that deserved to be called to his attention, important enough that it stopped X from asking why she was even monitoring something like this to begin with. There were still Maverick Hunters in China and while many were built by the nation, Signas had refused to commit any to a given cause. They were to make the choice themselves.

Still, she sounded more distressed about it than she probably should have been.

_"Probably a reaction to the bombings," _X thought back to Alia. _"I can't say I'm surprised."_

_"You don't understand, X! Just before that network went dark, there was a single burst of activity, simultaneous warps throughout all of China."_

_"How many?"_

_"I'm still coordinating data analysis with USSTRATCOM. Fifty thousand plus confirmed. They just issued DEFCON 1 warnings to all US forces abroad."_

* * *

_He understood, the moment he received the files he knew what to do._ Lenneth felt some measure of elation, having kept a portion of her mind focused on the live broadcast from the GDC assembly and the aftermath of Signas' words. _Erebus was right to believe in him._

It hurt Lenneth to admit, but any faith Erebus had placed in her may have been wrong. The intrusion countermeasures that defended the Chinese warp network twisted and reshaped themselves before her 'eyes', an infinite hydra of ones and zeros that constantly met her every challenge with a new form and constantly resurgent strength. Occasionally, she'd notice weaknesses in the self-modulating barriers, but hesitated to brute-force her way through them. She'd seen more capable reploids lose their selves in such deliberate traps. It had been like this from every approach she'd attempted, through nets across greater Asia. At times, the defensive response would be delayed, but always the same. At times, like the jaws of an old bear trap yawning open, daring her to trigger them. Or perhaps the gaps the defenses were subtle, luring her with the false promise of her own intelligence and capability having discovered a way to bypass the barrier. Lenneth found herself wondering if any of the times she'd withdrawn had been legitimate opportunities.

The Warp Network itself was originally intended to be an international system of satellites and ground stations that maintained them all, allowing goods to be delivered worldwide with relative ease. Governments and terrorists alike proved that something so open was something meant to be abused. So it was partitioned, cordoned off, 'secured' by the powers that be in every major region, all measures specifically aimed at reploids, though often written broadly to include anything warp-capable.

Before her, the barrier reconfigured itself once more, the same set of Chinese calligraphy flashing into place, informing her that this network was restricted, that she was not authorized. It slid closer, as though to consume her. Seemingly solid on the surface, but the mass rippled like water disturbed by pebbles thrown at it, pulsing ominously and expanding in every direction as far as her mind's eye could perceive.

This was no mere barrier program. There was rational thinking behind each reformation of the field.

There were reploids on the other side of this battle she waged. Dozens, perhaps hundreds.

Reploids who likely knew they faced another of their kind.

She'd read up on reploids designed for this sort of work. One of the most notable Mavericks in recent history, Cyber Peacock, had threatened billions of US dollars worth of infrastructure before his retirement, without even being physically present for most of the damage he intended to cause. His kind were actually a rarity. It was cheaper to design a mass production series of reploid minds to act as a collective. With so many individuals contributing to a singular purpose, it was almost required that the offense be comprised of as many or more minds seeking to bypass a barrier such as this. Or that they be the sort of monster Cyber had been in life.

_Need to pull back, reconsider another approach-_

Dark tendrils snaked out of the glowing, boiling mass before her. Gasping with fright, Lenneth brought her arms up before her, as though to shield herself-

And she was sitting on the ground once more in Jeju-do, seeing the first of the submersibles led by Hilde sink beneath the surface of Baengnokdam, on the way towards whatever lay at the bottom. She'd failed. Greeting her upon her return to the physical world was another text message from Erebus.

**MOSCOW UNDER MASS DRIVER BOMBARDMENT**

And then there was nothing more. She tried, hundreds of times, to establish a connection with Erebus, or find a proxy through which she could at least confirm he was still alive, and failed every single attempt. The networks were simply too clogged, or too broken to successfully communicate through.

Or he was dead, and Vanguard was truly hers and Hilde's. The idea struck her as rather sad.

Other messages came through to her, from old friends and contacts within the military. Information that she should not have access to flowed into her mind, compounding the ultimate failure of Vanguard. Standing abruptly, taken by anger, Lenneth put a fist through one of the equipment crates closest to her. The out of character display did not go unnoticed, but she did not care. Failure was not something she could easily accept from herself, but it was somehow worse to learn that success had always been beyond her grasp.

_**The Wrath of Olympus**_

To Nike, when a connection to a server was made within the Electrosphere, she perceived it as a string of light, connecting two points on the globe. It would pulse with every packet of data passed between both points. She could see millions, billions of these strings passing between points throughout the globe, making shapes that roughly resembled the real appearance of the Earth from thousands of miles away.

She'd watched as China simply vanished from her map, then, parts of Russia silently joined it. The brightest point, representing Moscow, flared briefly, then faded significantly, less coherent than before, sputtering in the artificial wind. Vladivostok winked out, then other cities. Points of light that hung over both nations also blinked away. She could 'feel' networks she'd been connected to shudder and fizzle away, her avatar threatening to join them.

It was almost beautiful to her, despite what it meant in the real world.

She superimposed this display over a composite real-time image gathered from dozens of higher orbit satellites. Parts of it looked less detailed than others, but it was enough to the hundreds of double-flashes of mass driver shots rippling across both Russia and China. Industrial centers were hit the hardest, then surface based military installations, followed by more 'symbolic' locations. The shared border would likely burn for days or weeks on either side of the invisible line as static positions and facilities were flattened. Fuel stores and ammunition dumps glowed the brightest of all, occasionally flaring up as more of their contents joined the flames.

She estimated perhaps only three percent of the strikes were off target. Not that it mattered. She captured it all at the highest resolutions the surveillance cameras could manage in real time.

Despite this, it wasn't close to over. Perhaps thirty years before today, both nations would have possessed enough firepower in orbit to completely ruin one another. Now they could only wound eachother, but they could not take the fight away within the first hour, like so many once predicted would happen. Now they could only give each other greater motivation.

_The GDC was meant to prevent such things. They all but helped us directly. My judgment- _our_ judgment was always correct._

More and more of her connections to the Electrosphere's networks were severed as remote terminal connections died by the thousands, until finally the strain grew more than even she could bear, and still she struggled to witness more of the war she'd begun.

She awoke in her bed, pain hammering through her hybrid alloy skull and electronic brain. Dizzy, but not wanting to remain still, she tore free of the bed, ripping free from dozens of cables that had been connected throughout her whole frame. She all but fell out onto the floor, managing to claw onto the side and force herself onto her feet.

"We did it," Nike whispered, barely able to stand upright. "We did it."

After such deep immersion in the Electrosphere, Nike typically 'crashed', harder than most reploids who were designed for this sort of work. She could never fully disconnect from it, evidenced by her continued surveillance of the world with her eyes in the sky, with her 'remote terminals', The Few who were in the field now. She needed the constant flow of information, she needed the voices. It took time to piece herself back together after scattering her consciousness through so many different nets, the 'backflow' always the hardest thing to handle.

She took several tentative steps before collapsing towards the ground. Hecatonchire was there to catch her, cradling her.

"I've got you. I'm here." He tried to sound reassuring, but there was no indication that she could hear him.

"EmergencyFLASHtraffic USSTRATCOM all receiving personnel DEFCON 1 now in effect for all forcesbasedoutsidecontinental-" She twitched in his arms, her voice skipping several times like a scratched record. " now confirmed Moscow, Skovorodino, Novosibirsk, Khabarovsk Vladivostokregionnnnnnnnnn-ErebusErebusconfirmedin Moscow-" and she went on like this for almost a full minute, her voice occasionally speeding up to levels that even Hecatonchire's hearing strained to compensate for. She began to 'hyperventilate', began to weep, to laugh, all at once as she continued to rattle off battle damage assessments, casualty estimates, until finally she'd reduced all of her external connections to solely the Few, and the Few alone.

"It's a terrible business, Hecaton," she managed, after she had calmed down.

"What did you see?"

"Fires. The Kremlin, vanishing in a single strike. Fighting. Armor crossing the borders. Ambulances racing through Beijing. A woman crying over her husband's body. Satellites, blotted out of the sky. Others racing towards new geosynchronous orbits. China going dark. The rest of planet, glowing with data. Warplight. So much warplight."

"The GDC seems partially in disarray," Hecatonchire stated. "Signas helped us, in a sense."

"He could not have without Erebus' assistance." Nike replied, still distracted by parts of her self returning from the networks she'd broken into. I wonder if- All friendly assets moving to designatedareasphasetwo-" She stopped herself with a whimper, clutching her head in agony. "Hurts, worse than ever. Karma."

"You can rest for now. I can handle the preparations to abandon the ship myself."

"Not long. Not more than hour."

"I'm giving you eight. Take every last bit of rest you can get. We may not get another chance."

**Moscow**

The shaking of the earth had yet to cease, and the emergency lighting only barely functioned, but Central had managed to avoid completely collapsing inward on itself. Twenty two layers of high-density armor plating, reinforced with kinetic buffer zones, and a powerful focused point electromagnetic barrier, had managed to stop whatever it was that had hit the Kremlin. The captain of Vanguard had been thrown to the ground, utterly helpless to that sort of kinetic power rippling through the earth. He no longer had access to the net, to his private link with Lenneth, and he wondered just how she had taken his last message.

"It's worse than I originally predicted, but still in line with said predictions." Arseny's voice cut through the distant rumblings and straining supports of the facility. "They did not level the city. Just as 'we' did not level Beijing. I imagine we have struck back."

"I can't confirm anything, wireless networks are down probably for hundreds of miles around." Dark as it was, Erebus could see the hall as though it were fully lit. The humans that had accompanied them were nowhere to be found. Arseny himself looked roughed up, having fared no better than Erebus through the sudden man-made quakes. "Our guards?"

"They fled into a side room the moment the first shock hit us." He pointed to a door that had been broken wide open by a large mass of debris from within the room. "I do not believe they will be joining us."

"I see. Your leaders, are they alive?"

"There have been no reports that the Presidential Cabinet has suffered any casualties."

_Not sure if that is good news or bad. _Erebus decided to keep that thought to himself.

"Channel 1418.80, encryption KINGFISH," Arseny continued. "Access key is now uploaded to your systems. That is the primary command frequency for all forces local to Moscow, for what good that will do. I'm encountering heavy interference, we can assume we are experiencing wide range jamming."

"What of it? Why are you giving me these access codes?"

"Reports of Chinese combat reploids in Moscow proper, sightings are centered around key government facilities that have not been completely destroyed by orbital strikes. I would imagine this location is an important target. We may not be able to reach anyone outside of the facility now, but as we get closer to the surface-"

"Are you asking me to assist?" The communications net

"You believe you can find the bastards who instigated all of this?"

"Yes." Erebus was not certain if he was lying to Arseny out of confidence, or if that confidence held any real merit. It felt like the right thing to say, regardless. "Warp Network is out of the question, no real signal locks to anything in orbit, and the surface is going to be a mess."

"Then I will get you out of Moscow myself, and to ensure you do that in one piece, you must be armed." Arseny's mouth twisted into the smallest of grins for a moment. "You are no good to Russia, much less the world, if you die here. Fortunately, it seems your weapons were left where you abandoned them." Arseny produced a pair of small vibroblades from sheaths mounted to his waist. "I will take point. In the event the enemy has managed to reach this deep into the facility, you are to leave me behind and try to make your way to your armaments. Ready?"

"As much as I can be."

He found himself wanting to contact Lenneth, before all others, and let her know that he was still in one piece, and that Vanguard was in fact _not_ hers, not yet at any rate. The inability to reach networks further beyond Moscow itself felt more disappointing to him that he expected. Despite this, the sky was literally falling apart all around him, and he continued to beat the long odds against his continued survival. There wasn't a clear way to set things right, but as long as he was alive, he could still hunt down Nike.

_**Reploid Experimental Tactics Research and Development Center  
**_**Wangqing, China**

It was impossible not to hear the sounds of war rolling through the forests and the countryside surrounding Wangqing, but like the disciplined soldiers they were, they did not think to act on instinct. They waited for orders, and orders did arrive. Oleg Morozoy read each word on his wrist mounted display with intense interest, focusing the most on 'orbital strikes' and 'Moscow'. He thought of his mother and father. He thought of Petrushka. There were others in the unit who were in a similar situation as he was, and like him they all kept their feelings and words on the matter to themselves, taking solace in the fact that their own nation had responded in kind. They could hear it in the wind, feel the rumbling earth in their bones.

Wanqing had been spared retaliation from orbit, for the moment. That would be the mission of the 8th OSN. According to their orders, there were sixty two high-level scientists working at Wangqing responsible for the collective intelligence network that governed the vaunted Chinese combat reploids. Possibly the network itself was housed there. Not one scientist was allowed to survive, the physical components of the network itself were to join them. Two or three mass driver shots could end it, but there was value in sending well trained men to do the wetwork. There was data to be collected and sent home for analysts to pour over.

Information was extremely limited, due to the network lockdown the Chinese had instituted. Communication of any kind was to be kept to a minimum, and even the short burst of data they'd received was likely enough that the enemy would be able to triangulate a position and send men to investigate, which was why the moment they received their mission, Morozoy's team began to move.

It was not his preferred start to the war, but Oleg knew that the best targets for his grievances were all wearing the wrong uniforms just meters away.


	14. Phase 12: Acceptable Losses

"_No matter how repulsive the peace, it's still vital to guard it. It may be an immoral peace, it may be an unjust peace, but an unjust peace is still better than a just war."_

**- Kiichi Gotoh, **_**Patlabor 2: The Movie**_

**Phase 12: Acceptable Losses**

**Baengnokdam Lake, Jeju-do**

**December 12th, 2133**

"So. Erebus enters Russia, without informing us here in Washington, in order to try and prevent all of this? And you supported this action?" General Culverson did not sound as livid as he probably felt, surprising Lenneth. Considering his known opinions of reploids, she expected that Erebus' secretive actions would have gotten him to request Vanguard be disbanded outright within the next few minutes. Despite that, the emergency video conference with the White House was going much better than Lenneth had anticipated. Culverson was the only one of the presidential cabinet to be as antagonistic as he was. At the same time, he had a right to be. Technically, Erebus _was_ required to give first priority to keeping Vanguard's handlers in D.C. updates that kept them as informed as possible on their activities and the reasoning behind them.

"That is a short summary, and yes, sir. I ultimately supported his decision."

"Even reploids can feel desperation." Culverson mused, leaning forward towards the camera built into the flatscreen display in the Oval Office. "Did you believe he could have changed anything?"

"I doubted his chances, but we decided expedience and decisive action were preferable to the alternative."

"That alternative being to not have made public all of the classified information Vanguard had gathered on a whim? Through the Maverick Hunters, a GDC organization?"

"They do not seem to consider themselves a part of that problem."

"If you're trying to get a rise out of her, you're not doing a very good job, General." President Souther's offhand remark seemed to pour water on Culverson's fire. "What are your intentions as interim commander of Vanguard, Lenneth?"

"We are continuing our investigation at Jeju-do regarding the Mavericks encountered on the island. Team Leader Hilde is working in conjunction with the 21st Maverick Hunter unit to recon a facility found on Mount Hallasan."

"You are not leading this effort?"

"I have been coordinating local dataflow with the Hunters, though it seems they will have deployed equipment to take over the local networks within the hour. Afterwards, I-" She stopped herself, considering what she was about to say, feeling surprised that the thoughts had ever crossed her mind to begin with. "The current situation may not allow for this, but as soon as the Hunters assume complete control of the local nets, I request permission to deploy myself to Moscow to locate and retrieve Erebus."

"Request denied." General Culverson replied, before anyone else could. "We cannot risk you in the battlezone, nor can we risk the possibility that you be located and captured by hostile forces. It's simple math: a US Army combat reploid in Moscow could provoke the Chinese."

"If you did not want to provoke the Chinese, you would not have publicly announced the deployment of two carrier groups to the South China Sea." Lenneth said cooly. "This situation has already escalated to a worst case scenario. We can ill afford the possibility of his capture by the Chinese. I can prevent this."

"Your concerns are warranted, but I'm inclined to agree with General Culverson." Defense Secretary Bachmann sounded sympathetic, but like a skilled actor it was impossible for Lenneth to gauge his sincerity. "There is a key difference between deploying carriers, and your direct intervention in Moscow: the carriers are not in immediate danger of hostilities with the Chinese. You would find yourself in the middle of a city at war, surrounded by combat units already engaged in fighting. A fool's errand, even if you managed to slip through the localized jamming and EM fields that have been deployed. There is a greater chance that you would spark an incident that would draw AmeriCanada into the fighting earlier than we are prepared for."

"I acknowledge the potential effects on your own deployments. However, he is a Commander-class reploid like myself-"

"Former. He hasn't been officially within the US military since 2126. Vanguard is, for all intents and purposes, a civilian organization specializing in Maverick terror. You, however, were officially military until the 10th of this month."

"So it would look bad if I were to go, because of my own recent history. You would rather risk civilian reploids, strictly for plausible deniability. Sirs, I am built for this, my people were all built for this, we can-"

"He likely is already dead, and you would be risking yourself and the interests of the nation you serve for personal reasons." Culverson shook his head. "We've already enacted a contingency measure to prevent his capture."

"Contingency? Without informing me?" Lenneth couldn't keep the shock out of her voice. "This is absurd, you've already placed assets in Russia to escort him to safety? All of this going over my authority as the second in command of this unit?"

"It's much less complicated." Bachmann turned toward the President. "Sir, shall I brief her now?"

"Let me preface this by saying that it is not out of spite that I agreed to this." Souther's words sent chills through the reploid's body. "I understand that special forces reploids in particular hold a great deal of respect and loyalty towards each other."

_What the hell are you saying- No. No no no no, they wouldn't, he wouldn't agree to-_

"Commander Lenneth," Bachmann began, clearing his throat several times. "You are aware that command-class military reploids are fitted with remote detonation systems to prevent capture by hostile forces. When Four left the military, he'd originally had the system disabled. As per an agreement made during Vanguard's operational approval process, he re-enabled that functionality. Should Four be compromised, he would be retired via remote command, in order to prevent his physical body from being possessed by...unapproved organizations." Bachmann made it sound clinical, like a doctor explaining a diagnosis, a professor explaining to a student the failings of their thesis. "The situation in Moscow is highly volatile. If he hasn't been destroyed by the orbital bombardment, he could be in enemy hands, his information networks, and consequently _your_ information networks, _our_ networks, are at risk. It's not an acceptable scenario."

"There is no way for you to even confirm if he has been compromised, the Chinese are jamming every electronic signal going in and out of Moscow, EM barriers are making it impossible to gather any real intelligence."

"Indeed, there is no way to confirm if the signal was received by his body."

"You already transmitted the command." She trembled with the realization. "You knew well before this meeting that he was in Moscow, and you acted. Without informing him, or I, that you were planning to do so."

"Ten minutes ago to be more specific." Culverson said.

"Why?"

"If the Chinese found him in Russia, what would they do?" The President refused to look her in the eye. "Would they turn their orbital weapons on our cities?"

"Over a single reploid?" She was shouting now. "You can't possibly believe they would escalate-"

"Look at what is happening over there, right now." Souther remained firm. "Those two nations are in the process of setting each other back by decades. It's the 2090's all over again. We can't predict what the Chinese will do, we haven't been able to accurately predict a single thing since this crisis began. I must err on the side of caution, my responsibilities are to millions of AmeriCanadian citizens, not to any single man or reploid. We cannot provoke the Chinese to use their remaining orbital mass drivers on our soil. Erebus is, or was, a potential liability. He understood the risks, and he made a gamble that did not pay off. I'm sorry, but what's done is done."

"Without his consent." The enormity of what had happened hit home now, her voice threatening to break. In the real world, thousands and thousands of miles away from the Oval Office, she struggled to remain seated, to remain calm. "I suspect he never expected to give it, and you never intended to ask."

"You forget, he did give his consent. As part of the agreement for allowing Vanguard to exist." Culverson frowned, as though confused by her distress. "One reploid isn't worth more than millions of civilians at risk of joining the countless others who are actually dead. It's that simple."

A part of Lenneth could follow the same cold calculus they had, could understand why they followed it. She could see how it had all made sense to them, and she hated being able to sympathize whatsoever with them. A reploid wasn't worth millions of lives, but in an instant, one reploid could conceivably become a worthy excuse to justify mass murder.

"For what it's worth," the President said, "I regret issuing the order, and I regret forcing you to stand down."

"Well, there's no need for the latter, Mr. President."

Lenneth severed the connection, her mind racing back through the network. She could not electronically access any servers or 'sites' in Moscow, as far as she could tell, not through traditional means. She could still use the eyes in the sky to keep searching. All subtlety was gone now as she accessed a geosynchronous AmeriCanada orbital surveillance platform, performed the necessary calculations, and made a series of precise course corrections. NORAD was probably pitching a fit, but if the government had never intended for her to use the command key overrides on their spysats, they'd have stripped that capability away from her on the same day she'd lost her command.

Part of her was afraid that they'd issue the same remote command to her that they'd done for Erebus, but being who she was, she understood why they'd do it. She wanted to believe they'd wait to confirm any wrong doing on her part before turning her to slag where she stood, but they didn't have to wait.

What frightened her more was that she was seriously considering what she would need to take with her to safely arrive in Moscow, and fight her way out of the city with Erebus in tow, alive or dead.

* * *

"Holy shit, could we be going any slower?" A Maverick Hunter groaned into the tactical net, his frustration echoed by others aboard his submersible craft. The descent to the lake bottom was being handled as cautiously as possible, a fact that chafed the Hunters immensely. They were not shy about vocalizing their discontent. It was all they could do; the two submersibles were not actually theirs. They were the property of the US government, 'borrowed' by Vanguard for this joint operation.

Hilde sympathized with them. When Apollo's Rebellion had occurred in September, she had wanted nothing more than to leap into action as soon as possible. She'd felt dark, potent hatred for the Mavericks who had threatened her friends, threatened her Ricardo. Had he actually died on that day, she was certain she would have followed him in short order. In the short time since Vanguard had been proposed and she had been named one of its leaders, the importance of calm, rational thought leading into action had been imprinted upon Hilde. Few in number, Vanguard could not support ill-conceived plans that guaranteed casualties.

Aggression was permitted, even encouraged. Initiative was highly valued, it just needed to be backed by analysis and intelligence. Vanguard did not have long lines of recruits to choose from, no simple way of replacing the losses. Before the addition of Commander Lenneth and her former RSF soldiers, every member had been hand-picked by the unit leaders, and then approved by the Captain himself. The few deaths they had sustained thus far could not be easily replaced, and likely would not be any time soon. Every action had to be taken with that in mind. They could not allow their anger to force their hand. Thus, the twenty reploids from Vanguard kept their feelings to themselves, worried more about what awaited them in the target facility.

"Forgive the enthusiasm of my Hunters." Gavin was a leader caught in an awkward situation. He did not wish to snap at his men and women for their words, he knew that it was their way of releasing tension. Coming from one heated battle to this waiting game while stuffed inside a small vessel was not going over well.

"I know where they're coming from." Hilde wanted to leave it at that. She had a lot on her mind, particularly with Asia destroying itself only hundreds of miles away, her Captain somewhere inside that mess. Her human boyfriend, somewhere over the Pacific.

"Well, we've all got worries of our own for the moment. No sense trying to compound it all, right?" He stared at the extra equipment that had been strapped to her standard armor, the tactical webbing, the additional mag-pistol ammunition, the beam saber in its charging port mounted to her back, a mag-rifle collapsed into storage mode next to it. "You remind me of a reploid we had join the Hunters a while back. He favored mag weapons too."

"I don't prefer them, Vanguard tries to avoid recruiting 'specialists' in the traditional sense. Regardless of our original intended function, we have to be ready to fill as many roles as possible." She regretted her tone, thinking she may have come off as sounding dismissive of her counterpart. "We like to be ready for bear all the times, yeah?" Emphasizing this, her left hand converted to its Buster form briefly, then shifted back.

"Explains a lot. Your whole crew looks like they are ready to fight in the war."

"Hopefully it doesn't come to that, but we're trained for it."

"I don't suppose you have any extra information about what is going on. Anything we need to know?"

"I'm not quite sure I follow you."

"A lot of good Hunters died today." Gavin leaned in closer. "Some of them were in my unit. Then there's the attacks in New Tokyo and New York. We're a little tired of being given the run-around by these bastards. If you know anything we don't-" Realizing he was raising his voice, Gavin cut himself off. "It's nothing personal. I'm sorry."

"We're all tired of the chase." Hilde said evenly, not bothering to look at him. "You know as much about these particular Mavericks as we do. That's why we're going down to this place to find out more. A clue on their whereabouts. Something we can all use."

She didn't show it, but Gavin knew right away that he stepped on a nerve. Unsure of what to say, he simply relaxed in his seat. Silence dominated the rest of the descent to the target structure.

* * *

The approach to the facility had gone surprisingly unchallenged. The slow rate of descent had been to help sniff out any defenses that were trying to remain hidden, but nothing was ever found. After roughly a half hour of circling around the moon pool entrance, it was determined safe to enter once the remote probes finished confirming a distinct lack of booby-traps There may as well had been signs welcoming the teams aboard. It was paradoxical, being relieved that the shooting had yet to start, that they'd entered the facility safely, yet almost wishing that the Mavericks had been lying in wait. At least there wouldn't have been time to think about what had happened, what was happening.

It was an obvious trap. Nothing had been left behind to guard the physical facility itself. EOD experts from the Hunters had been brought along to handle any disposal or disarmament, but it would only take one well-placed bomb to compromise the whole structure and expose everything within to the lake waters. That wouldn't be enough to stop the reploids, but it would most likely ruin any electronically stored intel they could retrieve. It'd also make getting back to the submersibles a real hassle.

Vanguard had split off from the Hunters immediately. Hilde had been given command of both of Vanguard's Alpha and Bravo teams, as her interim CO, Lenneth, was busy on the surface playing the part of local data hub. She did not seem phased by the new level of responsibility, ordering her Bravo team to remain close to Gavin's own team. She intended to dive deeper into the facility with Alpha, ahead of everyone else. She'd cited that her smaller unit could work faster on its own to seek out any potential booby traps. If something were to happen to them, it would give a chance for everyone else to react to it.

_I wonder if she's still upset._ Gavin was still bothered by the conversation on the way down. He'd known better, but let his own frustrations get the best of him. Vanguard was risking itself just the same as any Hunter, and they deserved the same respect. He ventured over towards her while her squad ensured their gear was ready to go before they prepared to enter one of the nearby pressure chambers.

"I'd like to-"

"Next time you see us, we'll hopefully have some information you can accuse us of holding back from you." She followed her team beyond one of the pressure chamber doors, not looking back as they slammed shut behind her.

That answered that.

**Moscow, Russian Federation**

**12:38 PM Local Time**

No words exchanged between them. They'd said their goodbyes to eachother and to the others aboard the _Olympus, _they'd long rehearsed the plan collectively with their minds over a shared network, connected via laser links or fiber optic cables that could ignore the jamming in the airwaves. Surrounded by thousands of potential direct threats, they could not afford to anything but act like the machines they were. Four of the six reploids carried a container bearing no small resemblance to a coffin and moved deep into the creaking, moaning structure that had been picked out in advance for their mission. The other two took point, investigating every space the team was to pass through thoroughly. In their wake, they'd left a score of Chinese machines dead and in fragments just large enough to allow for some identification. There had been some unfortunate humans, civilian or otherwise, who'd been confirmed to have seen them, and they'd also been forced to pay the price for that. The word couldn't get out just yet.

Timing their entry into the city to blend in with the Chinese reploids emerging from warp had been tough, but it was work that had been left up to Nike, and once again her mind had been up to the task. The PLA counterstrike against Russia had been expected, but to have actually send in their vaunted reploids into Moscow, a response so brazen as this, was nothing that could have been predicted with total accuracy. For Nike to have taken advantage of the situation as deftly as this was the very thing that had defined her existence back when they'd all played the role of the 'good guys'.

It became the perfect cover to take advantage of, though the insertion had been dicey. In addition to the massive EM field the Russians had activated, covering much of Moscow, the Chinese had deployed localized jammers. Dozens of these high tech lances now dotted the city, one of whom was within three hundred meters of their current position. Then there had been the hostile reploid garrison near the theatre itself. They'd put up some resistance, but only after it had been too late. They hadn't been prepared for immediate combat. They'd been stacking human corpses, then arranging them in rows for identification by authorities. That had given all of the combat team a moment's pause before they'd begun the slaughter. Had it been something they were ordered or programmed to do? Had they taken some measure of pity on the innocent?

"It really is a rather pretty construction," one of the six remarked as they entered a grand hall. Hundreds of seats stretched out in rows before them, red cushioning matching the carpets underfoot. The roof to much of the structure had collapsed inward, and the seats before the main stage had been crushed flat by masonry, but the stage itself had miraculously avoid a similar fate, though the grand crimson curtains now lay on the stage itself, having fallen while the earth had shaken around the building. Much of the balcony seating on the lower levels had also managed to remain intact, inspiring visions of the well-to-do sitting in the cushioned chairs, applauding politely as the grim performance began.

A moment after the coffin had been set down at center stage, a pneumatic hiss issued from the casing, and the Geiger counters built into their bodies began to click, containment around their cargo broken. The jamming could deny most forms of communication they had available from inside the structure, it could deny them easy escape, but it could not hide the distinct byproduct of a weapon that had lain in storage for nearly a century, denied its purpose through two world wars.

It wouldn't be long before the Russians knew, and soon enough so would the rest of the world. No man, no reploid, no god could hope to stop what would follow.

* * *

The Russian Federation had suffered immensely in the 2090s, while causing great suffering to its enemies in return. In addition to the war with China, terrorists both foreign and domestic had sought to forward their own causes, and their efforts continued to the day. The worst of their attacks had struck Saint Petersburg. Sympathizers within the Federation land army worked alongside of survivors of what had been called Chechnya before it had been forcibly returned to Russian control, smuggling a warhead from a disassembled ICBM into the city in the twilight of the 2090's. The official death total was counted at 350,000 human lives turned to ash in an instant. It was considered to be the key event that ultimately ended outright hostilities between China and Russia. Neither side wished to lose more than they already had.

For the Federation government, the terrorist attack proved to be mixed blessing. The Russian people openly supported increasingly intrusive security measures, all in the understandable interests of national security. Arguably, the surveillance networks were the most extensive of any nation, and while there were voices that occasionally rose to challenge the need for such things, the advent of reploids, and more specifically Mavericks, silenced many critics. Such were the times.

The surveillance network of Moscow had been badly battered throughout the Chinese bombardment, and the wide range jamming further reduced its effectiveness, but there was one function it was designed to fulfill under any circumstance, and it was the detection of radiation. All throughout the devastated city, from hidden storage bays and micro-hangars, thousands of bee-like drones no bigger than a basketball in wingspan took to the sky. Silent, and masked by optical camouflage, they'd been intended to remain deployed for days at a time, and the public would never have been the wiser. These drones spread over the city, taking up their assigned posts, all the while noting that today, the great city certainly looked different. It took roughly an hour, but soon the drones had been evenly dispersed, and they began their surveillance.

In minutes, their findings were being transmitted via fiber optic cables or laser-links back to their control centers, and these findings soon found their way to members of the Presidential Cabinet. Minutes after that, decisions were made, and orders were given.

* * *

"Well, that's disappointing," Erebus grunted as Arseny helped him climb into the smoke filled daylight of the city. His gaze was directed towards the sky, searching for something.

"Disappointing?" Arseny snarled. "It's an atrocity."

"Yeah, that too." Erebus muttered absently, unheard by his companion.

Retrieving Erebus' arms had gone without incident. Unlike the civilian population, government and military personnel were trained and prepared to evacuate any location quickly and efficiently, and so the facility had been left to the corpses of unlucky humans and reploids, valuable information servers burned out by self-destruct protocols, and the surveillance systems destroyed alongside of them. The underground bunker had been rendered essentially worthless, so there was no need for any guards to have stuck around to challenge a pair of reploids who'd been left behind.

It was strange to think that only an hour before, Moscow had been one of the largest cities on the planet, untouched by the war that had started hundreds of miles away. The vast majority of the skyline had reduced to ruin within minutes. Few streets even appeared recognizable, landmarks and famous structures marked by the piles of debris that had pieces still resembling what the undamaged whole once looked like. Massive fires from ruptured natural gas mains dotted the city, casting dark plumes into the sky. A low roar filled the atmosphere, punctuated by the reports of weapons fire, mag-rounds whistling through the air, the distant pops of explosions. It was still possible to see ionized contrails reaching high into the sky, marking the passage of kinetic lances.

"What is the current tactical and strategic situation? The few nets I can access, I remain heavily restricted from proper access."

"Accessing laser-link communications..." From Arseny's back, a small array unfolded itself and angled toward the sky to the east. Traditional radio and network communications were mostly locked out due to the EM barrier deployed across the city, but that couldn't stop laser-line communication. Despite the cloud cover and the smoke, relays for laser-lines dotted the Russian Federation, and some still remained active within the city despite the bombardment. It was enough to keep him updated on the general nature of the situation, unfortunately it did not allow him direct communications access to any units that did not have their own array to deploy...which was the vast majority of friendly forces within Moscow. Their desperate cries for help were being transmitted to units that did have a laser-line array, who then relayed it to anyone else who could receive and act on the information.

"We know Chinese reploids have entered the city, the exact number remains undetermined. There is no unit cohesion at this time, groups of disorganized hold-outs trying to maintain defensive positions around the remnants of key government facilities throughout the city, but they cannot possibly survive without reinforcements, and there are none that can arrive at the speed needed, nor at the strength required to handle such a threat. Current military assets available in the area of operations based on last known biometrics transmissions: 604th Red Banner Special Purpose Center, 6,207 known active combat ready human personnel. 15th OSN battalion, 2015 humans, 409 reploids. Vehicle asset data unavailable at this time, assumed that most facilities for vehicle maintenance and storage were struck first by orbital weapons and hostile ground units." Arseny pointed to the north. "Civilian evacuation efforts are proceeding surprisingly well. The enemy focuses its efforts on military and government targets. I assume they are attempting to burn through as much intelligence as possible while the opportunity presents itself."

"What is your government's plan to dislodge the invading units?"

"Once classified information is secured, or destroyed, and key officials have been confirmed KIA or evacuated, limited orbital bombardment with low-kinetic yield weapons will commence on target facilities-" Arseny paused, 'hearing' something that Erebus could not. "Radiological warning, confirmed by satellite and local surveillance mobile terminals. Available assets en-route to the following coordinates."

The wail of air-raid alarms could be heard rolling over the devastation.

Erebus knew the location within a second. "The Bolshoi Theater?"

"What remains of it, so it would seem."

"We're assets, and we're available. We go there now."

"Interesting."Arseny smiled. "Had you not suggested it, I would have informed you that your exit from this city has been delayed. You surprise me yet again."

"You've just suggested the Chinese may intend to detonate a nuclear weapon inside the capital of the Russian Federation. I understand priorities." They both took off in a sprint, headed towards their new objective.

"If you believe this to be a point of no return, I disagree."

"You're right in that we've already reached that point. This is something different."

"Meaning?"

"Why would the Chinese resort to a nuclear weapon? Alienate a GDC that still supports it? Even after the acts your nation is believed to have committed, they would not throw away any and all sympathy from the world strictly for vengeance. I say they wouldn't. It's Nike, doing exactly what I would do in her shoes."

"Your certainty in your hypothesis, your knowledge of these Mavericks, you must understand why my leaders refused to believe you."

"Radiological detection is hard to spoof with a proper ground sensor network, and there's no reason for the enemy to do so now, and not for something of this magnitude. Nuclear weapons have been a source of contention for a long time, even idle threats by madmen are taken seriously. Proliferation is strictly controlled, no-first-use treaties are in effect worldwide. To join the GDC, the use of nuclear weapons isn't even an option you can have on the table. Most non-aligned nations consider them a defensive option that hopefully one of their allies would resort to first."

"The timing is indeed convenient...and to have a pinpointed location by our network even after all that has transpired-"

"All to draw attention to themselves, to have locals confirm it seconds before they're vaporized. So all of Russia knows who did it. We have to get there as quickly as we can, this is possibly a break for us."

"We are already lagging behind my comrades..." Punctuating Arseny's observation, three transport polycraft roared overhead, engines clearly at the edge of their performance envelope, flying low and weaving between buildings, mountains of debris. A hellstorm of tracers reached out from the ground below, claiming two of the transports even as they began to turn away from whatever it was Arseny and Erebus could not see. The third managed to limp away, trailing smoke and flame while losing altitude. There were likely not going to be any survivors from any of the transports. "Anti-Aircraft batteries or reploid-portable systems, that is likely only the first of many attempts to get to the theatre. What is your plan, Erebus?"

"Confirm whether or not this is what I think it is, and if I'm right, make sure we're the only ones to walk away knowing I was right." Erebus glanced over to his Russian counterpart. "How far are you willing to go for your country, Arseny?"

"It is home." Arseny brushed his left hand against a beam saber hilt clipped to his waist, against the handles to his twin vibroblades resting within their sheaths. "I will fight for it."

"Your devotion is admirable. I have a hard time believing that it's genuine. Will you kill humans, if necessary? Chinese? Fellow Russians?" _That_ gave the Russian pause. Even pondering the idea seemed to crack his normally composed exterior.

"What if you are wrong?" In the end, Arseny could not answer the question, only retort with one of his own. Erebus could not blame him. Despite his extensive modifications and new assignment to the military, Arseny had been, and always would be a Maverick Hunter first.

"Then I was wrong, and that would also be something no one else needs to know about."

**Wangqing, China**

Oleg Morozoy was now able to claim the 8th OSN's first shots fired in anger of the war, resulting in two dead Chinese soldiers near his squad's point of entry near the perimeter fences. They'd been quick, clean kills, two shots from the AK-108, one to each head. Suppressed as much as it was, the weapon had made less noise firing than the sound of the bullet strikes, and of his armored form landing firmly on the other side of the fence. The pointman spotted these victims as the squad rushed forward, though neither man had been attentive enough to hear the heavy footfalls of the approaching invaders. Morozoy had been in the best position to deal with them, and his suit had performed flawlessly, allowing him to stabilize the heavy rifle mid-leap, centering the holographic sight on each head before trigger-pull. The suit absorbed so much of the recoil that the rifle hardly even kicked in his hands with each shot, and even managed the fine-tuning of his aim to ensure he'd had the second target lined up before the first even reacted to the bullet entering and exiting his brain.

As he'd landed, one of his men was already using an AI-driven program to feed a visual loop to the five intelli-cams in the area that would have captured the grim spectacle. Morozoy and another man sprinted up to the corpses and caught them before they'd even begun to fall to the ground, dragging them towards a small storage shed near the target hangar.

"Heavier than I expected," he whispered, setting the corpse down against a wall, out of sight from most possible angles. Fresh blood had splashed against his armor and their clothes, a macabre piece of modern art. He did not bother to look long at what remained of their faces.

No alarms had been raised at the deaths of the two men, which confirmed an extremely valuable piece of intel: the base biometrics systems did not extend to monitoring the physical well-being of each individual at all times, or that if it did the alarms were silent and ignorance was bliss. The same tech who'd fed the security cameras video loops could confirm no signals being sent to or from the bodies. For now, they were safe as anyone could be while carrying high-powered weapons and classified composition explosives. All throughout the base, other 8th OSN squads reported their insertions had gone smoother, and positions were being assessed for demolition. The actual assault would begin in earnest as soon as the hangars that contained any potential physical transport out of the facility were demolished.

With the bodies hidden, Oleg took the lead position of his squad next to one of the side entrances to the hangar, noting with satisfaction that his HUD marked off other members of the 8th OSN doing the same for nearby structures. Probable contacts began to light up the display as the rest of his team finished stacking behind them.

"Camera drone is up now, Morozoy."

A small, therm-optically cloaked drone hummed free from the hand of the squad tech, a sphere-like device powered by micro-repulsor lifts. It zipped up towards the roof of the structure, its camera view transmitting to the whole squad. After a minute, it became apparent that there was no way for the drone to slip inside the structure to gather visual intel. At most, they had rough positions of humans via heartbeat sensors, with general movement predicted by audio pickups planted against the door itself.

"Breach."

A series of charged were quickly placed against the door frames. Designed to be used to burn through the armor plating on a tank or ride armor's hatches before exploding violently to kill anyone on the inside, it was bound to be the thing that set off alarms across the whole base. Not that it mattered. They were the figurative signal for the whole unit to begin its assault.

"Ready!" Morozoy held his left hand, keeping his right on the grip and trigger to his rifle, signaling a silent countdown.

_Three, two, one-_

The explosives performed as advertised, burning cleanly through the security bolts and shooting their final lethal burst of shrapnel to anything within twenty meters of it. This left the door freestanding for a split second until the 'kicker' charge placed on its center accelerated the heavy metal mass violently into the hangar. Flashbangs had been tossed in within a second of this, and two seconds after that, the eight men barreled into the hangar.

There were twenty hostiles, all human, scattered throughout the hangar bay. If they'd been prepared, there had been plenty of cover for them to hide behind: parked polycraft, maintenance equipment, racks of replacement parts but none of it could save them from what was coming. The flashbangs that had been tossed inside, five total, were devious little creations that shared the camera drone's repulsor drives, combined with a 'dumb' AI guidance module that determined where the flashbang should travel to for maximum effectiveness. The five grenades flew to optimal positions, and promptly split into three distinct charges, a pattern that ensured there wouldn't be many safe places to hide from their disorienting effects.

The enemy never had a chance. Within the span of seconds, twenty corpses dropped to the floor where they once stood.

"Watchmen 2-1 to Group," Morozoy spoke quickly as he and another man went from corpse to corpse, ensuring that the enemy was as dead as they appeared. "Polycraft confirmed at objective Alter. Preparing hangar demolition."

There was no response on the command frequency. Confused, Morozoy switched to another channel. Then another. And another. And another, until it became clear that only static would answer his increasingly worried calls.

**Moscow**

The further away from the wasteland that once was the Kremlin that Arseny and Erebus travelled, the taller the mountains of rubble became, the more buildings they encountered that still bore a passing resemblance to what they'd been before the bombardment. It gave them a slight advantage. The dozens of Chinese reploids they were encountering along the way to the Bolshoi had not detected them as they scrambled from rubble pile to rubble pile, rooftop to collapsing rooftop. The plan was to keep it that way for as long as possible.

The fear both reploids felt, almost certainly surrounded by the enemy, inspired them to remain cautious. The heavy electronic interference that only grew as they closed in on the theatre enforced their silence. They could not even communicate wirelessly, and the time it would take to defeat the jamming to restore their private link would likely mean they'd fail to reach the Bolshoi in time to stop whatever it was that was being planned, something that Arseny was growing increasingly less of a believer in. Despite everything, Moscow was the only home he'd ever known. As a Maverick Hunter, the protection of the capital had been his duty. Now, everywhere he looked, he saw the enemy, saw what their leaders had called down onto his city. He saw these things, and wanted to paint the shattered streets with the artificial blood of every single Chinese reploid he could get his hands on.

_Soon,_ Erebus had mouthed to him. He wasn't ignorant; he could read Arseny's body language easily enough.

* * *

The rest of the trip had managed to pass without incident, and now they examined their target. The Bolshoi Theatre still stood at nearly its full height, more out of luck than the strength of its architecture. Camped out atop the remains of a shopping center across the main street in front of the theatre, Erebus had set about scouting the local area for useful intel, his heads-up-display awash with callouts and potential threat indicators.

"One EM jammer tower on the steps leading into the Bolshoi. That explains the increased interference." Erebus spoke quietly. While he was almost certain they hadn't been followed or detected up to this point, some measure of cowardice would guarantee that it stayed that way. "No active Chinese reploids in the area or around the tower. Odd."

"What a shame." Arseny's grip on his paired vibroblades tightened. "It's a trap, though I expect you to know that."

"We'll be springing it. No actives, at least a dozen KIA though. Lots of civilians casualties too, no way for me to determine if there are survivors from here. I'm going to call it at least thirty human bodies arranged in rows, for identification most likely. The combat reploids are dead, dead, and dead." He'd need to get closer to confirm it, and they would, but to Erebus it looked as though the Chinese had been in the process of cleaning up area of casualties when they'd been attacked. "Let's go. Ignore the jammer tower for now. It's preventing us from escaping via warp, but if there are active hostiles they're under the same blanket as us."

* * *

"It's Four, and a Russian Federation reploid, nothing in my internal files on it." The leader of Nike's strike team spoke with hushed reverence for the former, sitting cloaked on the roof over the front theatre entrance. He watched as both reploids darted from cover to cover, noting that the Russian hesitated somewhat when they passed near the rows of corpses outside of the building. "It's likely he's onto our plan, and that Russian probably is giving him access to any data the local surveillance drones have on our payload here. Everyone take up defensive positions within the auditorium, and go silent from here on out." The Maverick chuckled, then spoke one last time into their private network. "Alamo, Alamo, Alamo." With that, he severed his fiber optic thread connection to the central hub all the way back in the auditorium. Now he was alone.

Retrieving a rifle from his back, the Maverick studied the Chinese-manufactured Mark 30 Charged Particle Stream Delivery System, a 'rifle' in a loose sense. Most militaries preferred to use kinetic energy weapons, particularly for sniping, but primarily due to the low cost of production. Energy rifles such as this were a rarity among the armed forces. Originally developed in Finland, it had been adopted by the Chinese specifically for use among their reploid forces; it was too large, weighed far too much for any human to wield efficiently, the weapon reaching temperatures during firing that would burn through unprotected human skin.

A single shot, one tightly compressed stream of charged particles, would definitely kill or maim an unsuspecting standard humanoid reploid if correctly placed, defeat protection on certain Light Armored Vehicles or aircraft. The jury was still out as to whether or not allow these weapons for use against human beings directly.

Fortunately for the Russian and Four, killing was not the intent. The Maverick's job was to use the critical flaw of the CPSDS rifle to draw their attention to the balcony. The passing of the shot would leave a glowing trail of ionized gas in its wake, easily traceable to the sniper's location. It would make them come to him. It would help bring Four to the concert hall, where he would see that he could never defeat Nike, that Moscow was already lost.

As far as the Maverick was concerned, the Bolshoi would make a fine tomb for himself and his comrades, in the few minutes it had left to remain standing.

Sighting in on Four, the Maverick thought how easily it would be to take his head and tie up that particular loose end. Nike was insistent, however, that Erebus needed to survive, or at least be given the chance to survive of his own accord.

_Next customer, then._

* * *

Seeing Arseny halt his progress near the row of corpses, Erebus shrunk further behind his piece of cover: the remains of a decorative fountain that stood before the stairs that led up to the Bolshoi Theatre's front entrance. To his right was the jamming emitter, a foreign spire of metal sitting next to the carefully sculpted fountain that was broken into three distinct pieces. Water continued to pour from the ruptured water pipes that fed the display, soaking Erebus where he sat.

Arseny had knelt near one of the corpses, a boy, no older than ten years of age, his eyes still open, dead as the rest of the humans next to him. He reached out and closed the child's eyes. After another long pause, Arseny dashed forward towards the fountain, splashing down next to Erebus.

"You're lucky and stupid." Erebus snapped.

"Indeed." The reploid managed to say, clearly shaken by what he'd seen.

That was when a portion of his chest exploded outward, an inch-wide orange beam of light passing cleaning through Arseny, just shy of his reactor by inches. The fountainhead behind him shattered only a split second before the beam had reached though him, peppering both reploids with shrapnel that bounced off their armor or stabbed into exposed synthskin.

"MOVING!" Arseny shouted while coughing up deep purple blood, rolling to his right and leaping towards another fountain. A second beam shot grazed his left leg as he crashed into his new hiding spot. Three more beams carved up the fountain, showing Arseny with more debris, but he'd suffered no further direct hits. "STILL EFFECTIVE!"

"BEAM RIFLE! OUR TWELVE, HIGH ROOFTOP!" Erebus called out, already pressing his dash system to the limit as he broke free from cover. "HE'S GOT TALENT!"

Erebus had been able to track where the shots had come from, seeing a shimmering figure atop the pillared archway entrance to the Bolshoi, watching as the reploid's active camouflage gave out as it ejected what appeared to be the barrel to an absurdly large rifle, pulling another from his back and slamming it into place before leveling the weapon at him. Even from this distance, Erebus could tell that this opponent was of Chinese manufacture, even shared unit insignia with the dead fellows they'd come across in front of the theatre. Or at least appeared to be.

_Can't be Chinese. _Even under this threat, his mind continued to analyze and assess what he was learning, cross referencing it with what he knew. _They waited specifically for us to get close. Arseny ought to be dead already, and I ought to be as well._

Buster fire from Arseny forced the sniper to get moving, but kept his weapon trained on Erebus as he did.

_Gonna be close-_ Erebus shut off his left dash thruster, hoping to juke out of the sniper's sight, while also wondering if he even needed to bother trying to stay alive. How far would the Maverick go to sell this farce?

The next beam shot tore off the right half of his combat helmet, burning through synthflesh and a portion of his armored skull plating underneath, exposing his electronic brain casing to the air, a mass of HUD warnings blanketing his vision. As he began rolling out of control, crashing through a brick and mortar planter before sliding to a halt, he was aware that he could no longer see out of his right eye, and not because he was covered in mostly dry soil and flowers. That answered the question of realism. During his uncontrolled tumble, he counted four more shots, two directed towards him, another two aimed at Arseny, who'd broken free from cover and managed to advance closer.

_Be nice to just lay down awhile, _Erebus thought.

After a few long seconds with no further fire directed at them, Arseny bolted from his new piece of protection, yanking Erebus up from the ground by one arm and barreling through the oddly not barricaded doors of the Bolshoi. Both reploids panted heavily, their internal cooling systems working overtime trying to draw in fresh air.

"We should be dead," Arseny gasped. "Okay, American, I believe there is something to your theory." He managed to grin at Erebus. "You look good, by the way."

"I feel it." Erebus lied, thankful that the sniper had actually been a good shot. Had they miscalculated or misadjusted their shot, he wouldn't be cracking wise about it with Arseny. "That sniper's falling back to his buddies. He could drop down and try to take us both if he wanted, but that's not his game. He wants to show us something."

"Let's go see it, then. I will take point, I still have both of my eyes."

* * *

The Maverick ran through the corridors leading to the auditorium, certain that his footfalls could be heard by the two reploids back at the front entrance. He'd ditched the CPSDS rifle off the rooftop, not necessarily to move quicker, but rather because he no longer had any spare barrels. Having fired so rapidly, the weapon was no longer of use. Even now as he ran to rejoin his comrades, both barrels he'd expended now sat atop his former post, melting from the extreme heat

In any situation where they were fighting to win, the loss of that weapon would have been a huge blow.

Fortunately, they weren't fighting to win so much as they were fighting to make a statement.

The other five Mavericks had taken up positions on the stage itself, flanking the nuclear warhead, almost as though they were posing with it. Their leader leapt down from the balcony and rushed to join them. There was still one more act to play out.

**Baengnokdam Lake, Jeju-do**

It hadn't taken long for Gavin and Hilde's teams to secure the facility, a fact that left the two reploids agreeing on one thing: it had been something of an anti-climax.

Beyond the LED light strips that lined the corridors, blinking indicators on servers and powered down holographic displays, the place looked as though it had been abandoned days ago. There was hardly any evidence that any of the armory beds had been used recently. Racks filled with dozens of weapons, mag-rifles, spare buster pistols, anti-armor rockets, a wide assortment of melee weapons, all sat in perfect order, seemingly untouched. The greatest threat any of the Hunters or Vanguard reploids had encountered were low ceilings near the emergency escape pods. The only part of the base that looked as though it had been used recently was the dry dock where the Maverick airship had once been secured. Automated defense turrets could be seen hanging dormant from various key junctions, and when they were encountered, tech specialists moved into to ensure that they stayed harmless. Power was on throughout the facility, but in was clearly selective.

Despite the best efforts, it wasn't looking likely that they were going to pull any data from the servers without removing them from their current physical locations, and taking them back to MHHQ for a more detailed structural analysis. It was unlikely that they would find any information on how Baengnokdam Lake could have been modified so extensively to allow for a facility of this magnitude to exist in secret, without anyone noticing such work in progress. It spoke to the capabilities of the Mavericks involved with this incident, inspiring no small number of nightmare scenarios.

The Hunters whispered among themselves. They knew it had been only a little over two years since a certain Maverick had raised his head from whatever hole he'd likely crawled into. That was enough to make things particularly tense.

Both teams had brought along explosive ordnance disposal experts, and so far they'd failed to determine the existence of a self-destruct system. That didn't mean there wasn't one, it was just hidden much better than they expected. Not willing the risk their entire force, half of the Hunter and Vanguard personnel had been ordered back to the submersibles to make the return trip back to the surface.

These setbacks didn't stop the Hunters and Vanguard from thoroughly exploring the facility. Splitting into pairs, the remaining reploids were to continue their search for anything that might blow the entire facility out of the water.

This left Hilde and Gavin standing guard over a team of Hunter technicians who were trying to get what they believed was the facility's command center back online. This location was where there'd been the most evidence of recent habitation: a number of monitors had apparently been shattered by high speed blunt force impacts, and there was evidence that one of the bulkheads had been struck on a fairly regular basis. The central holographic projector had also suffered from the frustrations of the prior Maverick occupants, its control panel crumpled inward and sparking intermittently.

Gavin kept sneaking a glance over at Hilde, who continued to pay as little attention to him as possible. He knew he'd come on a little forceful to her, but hadn't quite expected her to be as upset about it as she was. He wanted to apologize, but he wasn't sure that opening his mouth was going to make things 'right' between them.

Suddenly, their eyes met. Gavin instinctively looked away, and Hilde pulled off her helmet, tossing it aside as she stomped towards him. The sound of it clattering against the deck startled the technicians. From their perspective, it looked like Hilde was about to punch their commander square in the face.

"Okay jackass, you can apologize now."

"Right." Gavin decided he would rather study the wrinkles on his gloved right hand. "I _am _sorry. Look, I wasn't implying-"

"I know you weren't trying to, but you did." Hilde had grabbed Gavin by his head, turning him to face her directly. "Considering what we risked to come and help you guys out, it strikes a whole bundle of fresh nerves." The synthskin on her face flushed slightly. "….Aaaaaaaand I suppose I'm not acting much better about it. That's all you're getting outta me, so you'd better take it or leave it." She let go of Gavin's head, and offered a handshake, which the Hunter gratefully accepted. The two reploids started to laugh, convincing the techs that their leaders were losing their minds, but at least there wasn't going to be a serious altercation.

"I've been meaning to ask you somethin'." Gavin said, once they'd settled down. "Y'know, it's not every day that an offer from Zero to come to MHHQ New Tokyo gets turned down. Guess this Vanguard thing of yours is really something."

"Vanguard wasn't even a thing during the Los Angeles incident; most of Vanguard today was MSWAT during that mess, or still serving the US in the 1st RSF. Besides," she smirked, "I've done my time as a Hunter, way before I went to MSWAT. You guys might go with ability based ranking, but you have way more contact with politicians than I personally care to stand for. Not only that, you people couldn't possibly pay me enough to leave behind the folks I know."

"That doesn't exactly tell me what Vanguard is."

"Sure doesn't." The look on her face said that there wasn't going to be anything gained by pressing her on the subject, sort of grin that proudly advertised secret knowledge that wouldn't be let out into the open any time soon.

"You were a Hunter before you were MSWAT?"

"Yeah…feels like ancient history to me now. Usually, it goes the other way around. I clashed a bit with authority over a promotion, quit in a huff. That's how I met the Captain." Hilde leaned back against a powered down terminal. "The more I think about it, I'm here today because of all that-"

"Holy crap!" One of the techs stood up from her monitors, backing away rapidly, nearly tripping over the tangle of wires that were plugged into her body, getting the attention of both Hilde and Gavin as she barked an order to the other technicians.

"What did I touch?" Hilde asked aloud, moving away from the terminal she'd rested against.

"Disconnect all of our hardware and switch to autistic mode, and keep it that way until we know what we did!" The tech began ripping the connections away from her neck and back furiously, as though touching them would be enough to cause her physical harm, throwing the wires to the ground.

"What's the problem?" Gavin hurried over to the monitors, quickly realizing that the stream of code blitzing across the display was completely incomprehensible to him.

"Every system that was dormant a minute ago just went online. I was digging around the communications system files, more like finally being able to see a file structure." The tech was trying to fight off stammering, and failing. She looked absolutely terrified. "I…I uh felt it, Commander Gavin. E-External access request, and self-diagnostics can't tell me if I… p-picked up anything I sh-shouldn't have. We know who this facility belonged to, wh-what that could mean, whatifI-"

Gavin lifted up a finger to silence her. "Not another word, stay calm. You," he pointed at another tech, "secure her, lock the command center down." Tapping on the side of his helmet, Gavin switched to an emergency frequency. "Commander X, go secure, we may have a situation, Code Black."

"You really, really do." A familiar voice answered. From the seemingly broken holographic projector, the translucent image of Vile's distinct helmet hovered ominously in the air, a single red eye burning fiercely at his enemies from behind his iconic visor. "Don't let me interrupt you, kiddo. Get a hold of X, and when you do, tell him I wanna talk to him. He'll have to come down to you for us to have our talk."

_Isn't this asshole supposed to be dead?_ Hilde kept the question to herself.

"What if I refuse?" Gavin asked calmly.

"Then I detonate a one hundred forty kiloton nuclear warhead buried underneath the facility, and whatever survives spends who knows how long in a plasma matter state before the water in the lake, whatever's left of it that is, comes rushing in to fill the momentary vacuum and snuffs your embers out."

"That doesn't inspire me with a lot of confidence to follow through with your demand."

"I don't want to nuke X, I wanna take him apart with my own two hands! Hell, you wanna die so badly, I'll just press a little button here, and I'll give you a minute to consider how screwed you are underneath all those EM field generators. Your call."

"He's got us." Hilde's hands balled up into fists, but otherwise she restrained herself.

"It's called escalation, girlfriend," Vile said genially. "I'm very good at escalation, y'know, I study it. Believe it or not folks, I wanna help! Now then-" All manner of amusement left the Maverick's voice. "Call to X. Call him _now_."

* * *

"X, you know this is a trap. I know it's a trap. Everyone who left the facility under the orders of the two acting commanders did so knowing that the place is a trap. I'm coming with you." Zero's statements were not falling on deaf ears, he knew X was listening to him but not responding. "Gavin thinks one of his people might have been infected with malware. What exactly that might be, he's got no way of knowing. What if we're dealing with…"

Neither reploid wanted that last thought to be finished.

"You can't come with me, Zero." The Azure Hunter said quietly. "Vile's terms are clear. He might destroy the facility and take everyone left inside with it." He offered a sad smile to Zero. "I don't think the Hunters could afford to lose the two of us at the same time."

"It's crazy."

"It's the best chance we have of getting everyone else out of the facility alive. I can't back out on this one." He motioned to all of the gathered Hunter and Vanguard personnel on the lake shore. "Get them away from here and into the city."

"You got it." Zero nodded. "I'll, uh, I'll coordinate with that Lenneth. Prolly go smoother that way." He gave X a hard, meaningful slap on the shoulder. "You want me to let Signas know?"

"I'll do it on the way down there. The 17th is yours until I get back."

"Sure, I could use the replacements."

The two friends glanced around awkwardly. There was so little time, and already they were being asked to make difficult calls. Neither was comfortable with the idea that only one of them could face the danger alone.

"It's not so bad, really," X mused. "I probably wouldn't feel a thing."

"Like that makes me feel better."

"He juuuust wants to talk." The two Hunters shared a knowing look. X checked the Mark 17 busters built into his forearms for the fifth time in the last three minutes. _Sure he does._

* * *

Gavin felt as though he'd just asked his commanding officer to show up for his own death. He knew he'd not been given many options, but was still trying to figure out what he could have done differently. For now, he simply paced around the room in silence, brooding. The secured and stasis'd technician, Karin, was under guard by one Hunter and another member of Vanguard, the heavy machine-gunner called Zak. No chances were to be taken there. The other techs were busy packing up their hardware, and Hilde was standing guard near one of the sealed doors. If any of their people wanted into the control room, they would have to be cleared by her first, and that wouldn't be the case unless it was an emergency, or something worse.

The standing orders were for all reploids in the facility to rendezvous back at the dry dock, where X would be arriving via submersible. Jad and Kol were making one final sweep of the facility together to ensure they had a proper head count and that there were no unpleasant surprises waiting to ambush them or X, so far reporting nothing.

"You're all very boring." Vile added a yawn to further emphasize this. Now fully figured, the holographic projection of the Maverick paced around its limited range in mockery of Gavin "It couldn't hurt to talk just a little bit, could it? Aren't you curious? At all? Yes? No?" Sighing, Vile kicked at a part of the projector system, his foot passing through it, and then suddenly whirled on Hilde. "You, tall girl. You are female, right?"

Hilde had the sense of mind to not show any outward sign that she was acknowledging him. It didn't discourage Vile in the least.

"Fine. Be that way. I can find out plenty about you from the 'net, it'd go real nice with everything your target told me." The Maverick snorted. "Really? A human? That's what gets the purple flowing for you? Granted, ol' Ricky's supposed to be a helluva specimen for his kind, but there's a few physiological differences between us and them, you know? See, you don't have a slot B for his-"

That wasn't ignorable. Her expression remained impassive, but her head snapped up to face Vile.

"Don't." It was all Hilde could bring herself to say.

"I can respect a girl's privacy. We all have our fetishes, don't get mad, it's cool, I'm not judging." With that, Vile's hologram disappeared, replaced by a spinning symbol familiar to all that had survived Uprising after Uprising. "When he gets here…when X gets here, you can all leave."

**Moscow**

The first thing Erebus did when they entered the Bolshoi Theatre was to access the localized network of the structure. As old as the building was, it had seen more modern amenities added to it over the years. Things like the fire suppression systems were controlled by modern sensors connected to a modern network. Assuming there was still a working fire department, if a blaze broke out somewhere within the building, detectors would send a request to the closest station for assistance. Other systems would determine just how much water would need to be used to contain the fire until help arrived. Another part of the network would ensure all of the emergency lighting would be used to direct guests to safety at viable exits.

The Bolshoi's net had been fractured by the upheaval gripping Moscow, but it hadn't been rendered useless. This wasn't like any security network used by the government. Despite it not being his primary capability, Erebus easily triggered the emergency lighting throughout the entire building, shutting down all other lighting that still remained active inside the structure. Next, he triggered a building-wide fire alarm, causing what remained functional of the fire suppression system to begin dowsing parts of the Bolshoi with a constant curtain of water.

Arseny hadn't been informed of this, so when the lights went out and the water began pouring down on them in the lobby, he'd immediately fallen into a defensive stance. Both knew that the enemy knew they were still alive and inside the theatre now. He was expecting another ambush.

"_That was my doing. I'm assuming any hostiles we run into will be equipped with therm-optics."_ Inside the building, there was slightly less EM interference from the jammer tower outside, and their close proximity allowed them to use private communications once more. Erebus gestured towards a waypoint he'd indicated both on his and Arseny's heads-up-displays. "_Let's move."_

With only the emergency lighting to guide them, the sounds of water impacting on their frames, falling on quickly growing puddles on the ground, the two reploids ran towards their objective. The building rumbled around them, the sounds of demolition charges detonating elsewhere in the building echoing through the cacophony of artificial rain and the footsteps of two reploids.

* * *

The sudden deluge of dirty water did not surprise any of the Mavericks. They knew who they were dealing with, and knew that he knew their potential capabilities. The rain, for however brief it would be before the reservoirs died out, would render any thermoptic camouflage useless, and no reploid-mounted holographic projection system could properly mimic conditions such as these.

"I'll handle the bomb. Take up positions throughout the auditorium, but keep away from the designated entrance."

The orders didn't make sense from a tactical perspective. The advantage in this situation went with those who were most aggressive. There were only so many viable routes from the lobby that would get Erebus and his Russian friend to the auditorium, particularly after the demo charges sealed routes that could take them to the upper balconies. If the Mavericks were operating in the way they knew would be best to eliminate the enemy, they'd have already attacked them in the lobby, had they managed to survive a sniper who was actually shooting to kill. Or they could set up close to the entrance they'd purposefully designated for the targets to use, and taken them as they moved down the corridor. Or attack them the moment they entered the auditorium using only plasma-based melee weaponry.

None of that is what Nike wanted. She wanted him to see the warhead. Identify it. She wanted her men to die at his hands, because at one point, they'd been his men as well.

"_I just want to speak with him,"_ she'd said to her men, before they'd gone completely off of the network.

The leader of the squad didn't know how to describe Nike's obsession with Erebus. It was easy to say that she hated him, that she wanted him to suffer through the sensations and emotions while retiring every single one of his former comrades before this was all over. She always spoke as though she had something to show him. As though she had something to prove.

Or perhaps it wasn't hatred.

It didn't matter in the end. Survival was not their primary goal. That didn't mean they were going to make it easy.

They could hear the footsteps now. Two combat reploids, sloshing and stomping through the wet passage towards battle, crushing tiling and expensive carpet with every step.

* * *

As the city of Moscow fought, as the city of Moscow died, bleeding out in the streets while screaming for mothers or for lovers or for comrades, the constant since the bombardment fell, since the Chinese reploids came, was confusion, a lack of communication and coordination. It was an advantage that the Chinese reploids pressed extremely hard, though few were capable of vocalizing their thankfulness to those who had set the operation up as such. It was just another factor in a long series of them that were contributing towards military successes, and nothing more.

When that factor was suddenly neutralized, it did not change things immediately for the Chinese. They continued going through practiced and programmed motions.

For the surviving Russian units in the city, it was as though the Universe had once more opened its doors to them. Slowly they began to communicate. Lone soldiers found an ally. Small squads joined with others to form a platoon. Airstrike requests started to go out into the communications networks, and were received by remote piloted drones near the city. The counterattack was beginning in earnest.

* * *

Predictably, the fire sprinklers had gone through the majority of their reservoir, simulating a real fire event, where the first minute was intended to control the blaze. The downpour lessened. Most of the sprinklers retreated back into their storage units, or simply ran dry. The few that continued did so at a comparatively light drizzle. Already mist was starting to form in the air.

_Perfect,_ Erebus thought. He imagined it would be more pronounced in the auditorium. It gave Arseny a better chance to live, with therm-optics no longer a factor. Elsewhere in the building, real fires were starting in the aftermath of the charges the Mavericks had set off, but they would likely fail to spread very far. Not that it mattered to anyone involved now.

Arseny held up a hand, motioning for them to stop.

"_Erebus…do you read me?"_ The Russian now spoke over their private link._ "I'm no longer registering interference from the nearby jamming tower…or any other source within ten kilometers from here. The emergency communications network is back online."_

"_The EM barrier is gone from around the city, too."_ Erebus added. As a precaution, he set emergency coordinates to retreat back to Jeju-do should the need suddenly arise.

"_Indeed, but why? It will allow my military to warp in mechaniloid and reploid reinforcements to begin evicting the invading units-"_

"_It's to maximize the casualty count."_ Erebus frowned, then he spoke aloud "You're giving us a choice. We can confront this, or we can flee."

"_What? What are you saying?"_

"_It's just a game to her. Keep moving, but hold short of the auditorium entrance."_

There was no door to kick down between them and the auditorium. The entrance was wide open, inviting them to come inside. As per the emergency protocols, most of the lighting had been dimmed, and even this far away they could make out the emergency LED lights on the aisles, ushering occupants to the fire exits. They could see a coffin-like device sitting at the center of the stage. There were stairs that would lead them down a lit aisle from the entry way. Outside of one of the stage lights remaining on and pointed directly at the coffin, the only other source of brightness came from the holes in the roof, casting their own rays down onto the seats and orchestra pit. That was all they could see through that open doorway.

Arseny motioned to go first, but Erebus grabbed onto his shoulder and held him in place.

"_You have no real experience fighting enemies with therm-optics, all simulated. Read your file. Wait for my signal."_

"_Do you have a plan?"_

"_I'm making a run for the emergency exit, opposite corner of the auditorium from us. When I signal, you follow the aisle straight down to the exit that's directly ahead. We meet somewhere backstage."_

"_That is not a very comprehensive plan."_

"_Yeah, it really isn't."_

* * *

"_The Russian is holding position. Four's advancing. Gunner, adjust angle, do not let him approach the stage just yet."_

"_Confirmed."_

"_Nexus Lead, Nexus Two, moving to position Bravo. Have shot on Russian."_ Like his squad leader, this Maverick had come to Moscow equipped with a Mark 30.

"_Hold hold hold. Let them in."_

"_Confirmed."_

"_Net is open. Nike, are you watching?"_ When she finally replied, her voice sounded strained and faint all at once.

"_With bated breath."_

* * *

Erebus threw himself forward, beyond the point of no return. Now inside the auditorium proper, he was committed. There could be no retreat now. Still in mid-leap, he spun around, trying to catch glimpses of telltale distortions in the shape of men, given away by the mist and falling droplets of water and spare lighting.

_One, two…six. They have six._ He hadn't seen them all. In reality, he only managed to catch three of them with his one working eye. One on the stage itself, the most visible. Another, his form apparently crouching down at the bottom the aisle directly in front of him. The third was almost as obvious as the first, crushing several seats underfoot at the center of the auditorium, a whirring sound issuing from his direction. The rest, he only detected the sound of their therm-optics, something only a reploid or trained guard dog would hear. He had rough positions, but nothing precise, no idea of their armament.

_They should have fired. A test, is it?_

His feet had just touched the ground, and his right hand had dropped towards his built-in utility belt, unhooking a small, innocuous seeming brick-shaped block from the belt, and flinging it forward. A quarter of a second later, the brick pulsed three times, emitting an increasingly more powerful flash of light each time before detonating. This type of flashbang grenade was meant to force a combat reploid to rapidly readjust to changing lighting conditions, giving the user a chance to evade visual detection for a scant few seconds. Unlocking the restrictions on his dash system, Erebus took to the air once more, and the thrusters built into his legs burst into action, sending him flying across the auditorium, towards one of the balconies to the right of where he'd entered from.

The whirring sound from the figure amidst the seats increased in pitch. The one in the aisle emitted a whine, and in the moment that Erebus looked back with his one good eye to see what was coming his way, he saw the two reploids deactivate their therm-optics simultaneously.

_Rotary cannon, beam rifle-_

Stomping forward deliberately, the reploid armed with the five-barreled rotary cannon unleashed a torrent of fire that was off target by several feet, ripping massive gouges across the beautifully decorated wall to Erebus' right as he crashed through a wooden guard rail, through cushioned seats, through a wooden support beam and the metal rebar that reinforced it, rolling once before crashing into a wall. The rotary cannon continued chasing after him, firing what Erebus estimated to be twenty millimeter rounds. Scrambling to his feet, he ran along the second floor balcony, everything exploding behind him.

Before him was the first of the three he hadn't been able to see previously, his therm-optics still active, the illusion broken by water beading up on his frame, debris clinging to it. The humanoid shape raised its left hand at Erebus, an angry blue light emitting from it accompanied by a high pitched roar.

But Erebus was already on him, his left hand on the Maverick's throat, tackling him to the ground, batting the buster-hand aside hard enough that the charged shot it was building fired involuntarily, destroying the next three sections of wall before the plasma fizzled away. They slid forward, the 20-mike-mike still devouring whole sections of restored history behind them, sliding off the balcony and towards the 'cheap' seats below. Erebus raised his right hand, the orange fury of his wrist-mounted plasma saber trailing in the semi-darkness as they fell.

One stroke through the Maverick's forehead, through his control chip as they landed, the featureless helmet that had protected his face splitting into even halves. The rotary cannon gunner was still trying to adjust his aim, fighting the recoil of the weapon to bring the rain of fire down towards Erebus.

_Number Five-Six-Five, that's who you were._

In that moment, with the Maverick's face revealed, he knew he had been vindicated. He'd been right. These were Nike's people, disguised as Chinese combat reploids. The shaven head, the artificial blue eyes, the perfect teeth.

He'd knew this man, this reploid, and the death smile on Five-Six-Five's face gave Erebus a moment's pause before he pushed off from the Maverick, still being chased by the rotary cannon barrage. A half second later, the sniper in the aisle fired, searing some of Erebus' back plating. In sympathy to the burning sensation that prompted a mass of warning displays on his HUD, the dead Maverick's corpse ejected its reactor vertically, a safety feature to prevent friendly casualties from a reactor overload, and the body exploded, flattening a dozen rows of seats and opening a jagged hole in the wall next to it. The spherical reactor was propelled back towards the balcony the Maverick had occupied, while Erebus was propelled forward, towards an emergency exit door. He crashed through the door upside down, landing hard on his back.

The rotary cannon stopped firing, a loud hiss replacing the basso growl that accompanied the flood of bullets. A short reprieve while the barrels cooled? A mechanical failure? Erebus could not be certain.

"_Arseny, sniper, first floor aisle, your twelve, nownownownownow-"_

* * *

The Russian had been unable to see what exactly had transpired, and was surprised to hear Erebus speak over their network, but did not hesitate when he'd been given the target. Charging forward, dash thrusters blaring, Arseny spied the sniper, who was already turning to face him, the barrel of his Mark 30 already emitting an ominous glow, spitting arcs of electricity along its length-

And Arseny threw one of his prized vibro-daggers as hard as he possibly could, not at the Maverick, but at his weapon. The Maverick had yet to bring the rifle to bear entirely, giving Arseny a perfect profile of the Mark 30 to place his dagger. He struck a box like extension that was nestled between the barrel and the trigger guard-

The results were immediate and catastrophic. The Maverick had noticed the problem immediately, but was in the process of priming the weapon for a snapshot on Arseny. It had already built up a full charge, and now the capacitor had been damaged. Sensing the danger, the sniper tried to discard the Mark 30 just as it exploded, taking off both of the Maverick's arms, much of his chest plating, helmet, and face, and sending the corpse tumbling into the orchestra pit.

"_Sniper down."_

And now the Maverick at the center of the auditorium whirled 'round, with surprising speed and dexterity, the rotary cannon barrels glowing a faint orange, but still spinning-

The Russian was still moving towards the smoking crater left behind by the sniper as the rotary gunner tore a new gash across the auditorium, collapsing the entrance behind Arseny as he ran forward as quickly as his legs could take him, the burst of speed from his thrusters fading away.

The math was clear, it was all just a matter of physics now: he was not going to make it. He'd just been in the wrong place at the wrong time. His emergency dash system was not as powerful as the one found on Erebus. He'd not anticipated the speed of these Mavericks, despite his own predictions of their superiority. There just wasn't enough preparation in the world to make up the difference between himself and the enemy.

A twenty millimeter round caught Arseny in the right thigh as he sprinted, and burst clean through it and the left leg. The change in his momentum was almost instantaneous, almost comical, both legs blown off, leaving a second, third, and fourth rounds to flatten themselves against his heavy chest plating, gouging enormous divots in the armor and spraying his artificial lifeblood into the air. It as was though he were yanked towards the wall to his left suddenly, body spinning through the air and wall, into a side hallway as another twenty rounds exploded all round him before the barrage stopped.

Coming to a rest against the ground, Arseny believed in small miracles thanks to the knowledge that despite the loss of his legs and further damage to his torso, he was still in one piece and his reactor had yet to suffer an immediately critical breach. Had that been the case, he wouldn't have been around to be analyzing his situation. There was news scrolling across his HUD, none of it good. If he didn't go into cold stasis within the next half hour, his new role would be about occupying many places all at once, along with whatever else was within fifty feet of him. There was just the slight issue of there not being any convenient facilities he could warp to at this time, what with his warp generator offline permanently.

Over the ringing sound in his skull, Arseny could hear the rotary gunner stomping in his direction, the sound of a death march.

"_I am out of position and combat ineffective. Erebus, I cannot sustain-"_

"_Play dead. The enemy is not Chinese. I confirm: the enemy are Mavericks, former elements of the United States Army Second Reploid Special Forces Battalion."_ Even over their private network, Arseny swore he could hear the grinding of teeth. _"Goddamned Second Battalion."_

"_But the device on the stage-"_

"_Leave that to me, and play dead. It's four on one now. What's your state? I need to know how much time I have."_

"_I have a category three containment breach on my microfusion generator. Twenty, maybe thirty minutes before the emergency containment system fails."_

Erebus stopped responding.

* * *

Erebus was disappointed that Arseny was already down, not because he expected more out of the former Maverick Hunter, but the additional body would have been really useful. The reality was Arseny, while skilled, had just been unlucky. Had Erebus been given the option, he'd have taken out that damned gunner first. Had things not gone the way they did, it could have been him in Arseny's place.

Arseny had less than half an hour to live. Under the circumstances, that didn't add any additional pressure. The nuclear device, if there really was a nuclear device and not just something to make him and the Russian Federation believe there was one, could be detonated at any time.

He was no longer certain if these Mavericks were only toying with him. Perhaps that was the point of all this.

Getting to his feet, Erebus avoided going back out into the auditorium through the emergency exit he'd flown through, listening to the sound of the gunner marching away from him, towards Arseny's position. _Damn._

There was an odd _foomph_ sound from the auditorium, followed by a hiss. Erebus dashed to his right, and a moment later an RPG flew through the exit and struck the ground where'd been, the ensuing blast collapsing part of the low roof and blocking the emergency exit. Debris and water from still running sprinklers sprayed all over him.

"Didn't wanna go back that way anyway…" Erebus grunted as he pulled himself up from the ground once again. He checked a floor plan of the Bolshoi in his mind, and worked out a flanking route to his next destination. In the brief moment that he'd observed the RPG strike, he had been able to work out a general trajectory of the shot.

_Stay moving, stay on the attack-_

* * *

Pain receptors would have been dulled by shock or unconsciousness, had Arseny been born human and by a miracle managed to survive a similar level of punishment. Reploids did not necessarily follow that standard. Unwilling to be distracted by such things, he simply shut down the majority of his artificial nervous system. He could still hear and see, badly, but it would be good enough. He could now make out the rotary gunner's features. The weapon was almost too big for the reploid, but he'd clearly not been hindered by its size.

_He certainly appears Chinese by design,_ Arseny thought.

The Maverick was at least as tall as Erebus was, surprisingly thin given his preferred weapon. Looking directly at Arseny, the Maverick continued towards the crippled reploid, rotary cannon still spinning and leveled at his head. Arseny had tried to halt any processes that may have hinted at his continued function, but there was no way to hide the fact that his control chip crystal has miraculously remained undamaged, nor could he hide the developing breach in his microfusion core's containment systems. The Maverick was clearly not an idiot. He was going to be thorough.

_An execution, then._

An explosion on the other side of the auditorium froze the gunner in his tracks, and he spun away from Arseny to investigate it.

* * *

With the first RPG shot clearly unsuccessful, Erebus knew that the Maverick in question was likely networking with the other surviving hostiles in order to track his position by means that extended beyond mere visual tracking. He could expect nothing less from those derived from the basic design that had spawned him.

Almost all reploids designed for combat had a suite of software that gave them a variety of ways to maintain a tactical advantage on the enemy. They could cross-reference a target based on physical design, and use that to locate weaknesses. A comprehensive movement prediction system could show a myriad of possible maneuvers based on their target's body position in real time. More sophisticated combat reploids came with more sophisticated variants of this, making targets rarely unpredictable, turning combat into a test of specifications. Motion trackers were standard issue, and getting more accurate by the day. Coupled with high sensitivity audio pick-ups, and the fact that there were still four hostiles in the auditorium, they probably knew exactly where he was going. The RPG user certainly did, because Erebus' footsteps grew louder as they got closer to him.

Leaping up the final flight of stairs to reach the fourth floor balcony service corridor, Erebus flung a cluster of four flash-bricks towards a service door with his left hand, while his right hand slagged the door wide open with bolt of charged plasma.

The response was a second _foomph._ His dash thrusters flared brightly, burning the carpet beneath him and leaving a trail of steam behind him as water from the fire suppression system fell on the scorched material.

Erebus had predicted that the Maverick would know that the four flash-bricks thrown through the newly slagged door were a decoy, that he would never charge right through that obvious point of entry to simply eat a rocket to the face. That Maverick knew that Erebus had access to a certain amount of acceleration in mid-air or on the ground. He knew that Erebus would wait to the last possible moment to use his dash system to avoid a direct hit, so he lead the target based on sound and his motion tracking sensors.

Both reploids knew that the RPG he fired would likely pass through the wall easily, likely continue flying until it exited the building, so the Maverick would compensate for this by setting the warhead on the rocket to detonate on his command.

What the software failed to predict for the Maverick was Erebus switching directions in mid-air to fly almost directly at the rocket propelled grenade, using his speed and the new weakness on the first wall to crash through it as the shot whipped past his head by a quarter of an inch, an action that surprised the Maverick enough that it delayed the manual triggering of the RPG shot to put the blast just outside of effective range of Erebus as he charged forward. The software also failed to predict Erebus continuing to sprint forward as the Maverick dropped his launcher to try and draw a plasma saber in self-defense, firing a second charged shot from his left hand now converted into a buster. It failed to predict all this ending with the Maverick's head reduced to a mass of glowing molten alloys where his neck began

_Three on one. No response from hostile on stage. Not leaving his position, hasn't fired a single shot yet. Two hostiles positions confirmed, no position on number three._

The decapitated reploid body ragdolled to the ground, and Erebus stopped sprinting, allowing himself to slide past the corpse and pick up the RPG launcher as it slipped from the Maverick's grasp, and one spare shot from a stockpile the Maverick had set up. His back now against an ornate marble sculpture of Alexander Nevsky astride on horseback, ancient sword drawn and held high, Erebus calmly loaded the rocket into the weapon, and waited and listened.

The response was halting at first, but soon grew confidence and fury. Alexander Nevsky shattered as a short burst from the rotary cannon forced Erebus to roll away from his position. A second, longer barrage from the cannon prompted Erebus to scramble on all fours, lighting up his dash thrusters just as several shots struck the cluster of RPG's lying on the ground. The conflagration was joined by the Maverick corpse ejecting its microfusion generator and self-destructing. Much of the fourth floor balcony simply vanished in flames and an expanding cloud of dust and debris.

Battered, but still in one piece, functional and now on the third floor balcony half covered in debris from the collapsed fourth floor, Erebus decided now would be a good time to call in a favor.

**Baengnokdam Lake, Jeju-do**

"_Lenneth, I don't have much time. We should chat."_

His voice, suddenly playing inside her mind gave the former general a shock. She considered it possible that he'd survived, she considered it possible that he would have subverted the remote-kill command in some way, but she was still surprised by the sudden communication. She had so many questions, doubted any would get answered, but was compelled to ask anyway. They had both appeared in their private shared space, without armor. His image flickered, either from interference or something else. She could not help but smile at him.

"_They told me that they transmitted a remote-detonation protocol-"_

"_They did, as far as I'm concerned I never received it." _He grinned roguishly._ "What I'd give to see Culverson's face if you told him I was still alive."_

"_It must be important if you are deigning to even inform me of your continued existence."_

"_It is. It doesn't hurt that the EM fields and jamming towers that would make communication impossible went off line quite suddenly. I suppose somewhere along the way I felt obligated to inform you of developments that may affect you shortly. I may also need a favor, a fairly big one."_ He chuckled. _"Possible Broken Arrow at the Bolshoi Ballet."_

"_Interesting, we are evacuating Lake Baengnokdam due to a nuclear threat at that hidden facility we discovered. Are you more certain about yours than we are about ours?"_

"_Fairly. I've encountered resistance around the target, six reploids. I have confirmed them to be 2nd RSF Mavericks."_

"_What's your status?"_ Lenneth knew that the avatars they used in this controlled environment never reflected their true appearance. Part of her was afraid that he was lying, that he was actually out of the fight, and waiting for the end.

"_Still in one piece. Three hostiles eliminated. I'm still combat effective. I had help in the form of Arseny, the former Maverick Hunter Commander based in Moscow, but he's currently incapacitated."_

"_I can help you,"_ Lenneth said quickly. _"I could send a team covertly, or only deploy myself to limit the blowback against Vanguard-"_

"_No. Judging from what you've already said to me, I assume you spoke with the Joint Chiefs and the President, so they know I deployed. I imagine they already know a lot of things that have drastically cut short the lifespan of my little group. Let's not make things worse."_

"_You wouldn't be contacting me if you weren't in need of assistance,"_ Lenneth snapped, growing more upset with Erebus. _"Let me repay our debt, my debt, to you."_

"_You can. If I don't contact you in five minutes, request a mass driver strike directly onto the Bolshoi Theatre in order to contain the Maverick Erebus, who has stated his intentions to join with Nike's forces and detonate a nuclear device in Moscow, framing the Chinese for its use. I'm certain you'll have no issues with getting the authorization."_

He'd said it so matter-of-factly that Lenneth was at a complete loss for words. Seconds passed in the real world, but in this electronic space, the silence between them lasted for what felt like hours.

"_You can't expect me to do that." _She managed to protest weakly._ "I couldn't. Everything you've ever done would be tainted by this."_

"_If things go badly, and I am unable to stop them here in Moscow, Vanguard is yours." _He sounded at peace with his orders, the sort of calm serenity that came with accepting death as inevitable. _"You'd have an excellent second in command in the form of Hilde, and I've already set up orders that effectively seal you as my immediate replacement if it comes down to it. There will be some grumbling, but they are good soldiers. They will follow orders, mine and yours."_ Again, silence in their shared space. She could only stare at him, unable to believe that this was the decision he'd come to.

"_Five minutes, Lenneth. I've got to go now."_

And with that, his projection dissolved into a cloud of pixelated motes of light.

* * *

"X, you old sod! It's been ages!" Vile's jovial greeting of the Maverick Hunter was overwrought, almost painful to listen to, but X endured it with a mask of indifference. He was growing very, very tired of this game.

"All other Hunters have been evacuated, as per your instructions. I'm the only person down here. You wanted to talk, here I am."

"Anything to protect the many at the cost of the few, or the one." Vile's hologram sat down on an invisible seat. "It's just like Sigma said to me those years ago, you've done a real good job staying exactly as you always were. He said you had something like…potential. I want to believe it, I just can't. I don't understand intangible bullshit like that." He pointed to a chair that had been moved in front of the projector by Hilde under his orders before she'd been forced to vacate the premises. "Don't waste her services X, have a seat! She's a real good seat-mover, that blond one, best in class as they say. Of course, when you start life purposed to be a waitress, you get all the software that probably entails. Maybe she kept that shit installed, ya know? For old times' sake?" Laughing softly, Vile suddenly squeezed his helmet between his hands, hard enough to cause a crack to spiderweb across its curved shape. "Right, talk, exchange of information. Sorry. Ah ha ha. Ow."

"Where are you?" X demanded.

"Nowhere near ya, near as I can tell. By the way X? That whole thing with the nuke? I lied. Gotcha." Vile guffawed, almost falling out of his seat. "I gotcha. I gotcha! I beatcha!" It took him almost a full minute to stop laughing, and when he did, he was almost wistful in tone. "I finally beat you again at something, somehow."

"I suppose you did."

"There's no nuke. Not here anyway. I just wanted you to come down here so we can talk. I do have information about those Mavericks you're looking for. It's important." From the control console between them, a small memory stick protruded from a slot at its center, the red LED around blinking intermittently. "It's all there, a detailing of all transactions between one Nike and her band of merrymakers, we'll call them 'The Few, The Proud', and Kill All Humans Limited Liability Corporation, I'm sure you know who the CEO of that is." Vile stood up suddenly from his seat, kicking the invisible chair across the room he sat in thousands of miles away. "For your eyes only though. Anyone else tries to analyze it…poof! It's gone. Self-deletes, and you lose all that valuable intel. It's only for you. You can tell everyone you want about it after you've accessed it for yourself, but only you can read that data directly. Go on, take it."

"And why should I trust you?"

"Because why the hell would I want to kill you with a virus or a cheap trick that doesn't involve me personally putting my own ten fingers through your green eyes and skull?"

"I suppose there is that." X reached towards the memory stick, then hesitated from pulling it out at the last moment, just as his fingers reached it. "Why don't you tell me everything yourself, Vile?"

"Because there's a chance that _she_ is listening in on us." Under his breath, Vile muttered to himself. "Crazy hacker angel bitch…" He pointed emphatically at the memory stick. "WILL YOU TAKE THE GODDAMNED THING?"

The sudden shout startled the Hunter, but he did as was asked.

"Y'know X, she's pretty serious about all this. She thinks she's gonna change the world, all it'll take is tossing a few million more bodies to the growing mountain. But she's wrong, X. The last person that really changed to the world was James Cain, and that's only after he discovered you, and created the means by which life could be given to such upstanding achievements like myself and Sigma and Doppler and Bit and Byte and Serges and Agile and Violen, and I could go on. Praise to that dead fossil, he gave the human race a new means by which to destroy itself. You notice a problem here? You a student of history?"

X did not answer, for he was trying to contain his own anger at the mention of Doctor Cain. His second father, a man who died regretting what he'd done in life despite the best intentions. History would undoubtedly cast a harsh light on the man, despite his efforts to fight the thing he'd inadvertently spawned.

"World War One was called the war to end all wars. Thirty-eight million casualties. Sixteen million deaths. World War Two, the first deployment of nuclear weapons in combat, ultimately killed almost eighty million people. Maybe, they're not quite sure. Most of them were civilians.

Keep following me here X, this is what they call _theming_.

World War Three, 2040-2047. The United States of America deploys the GAIDN system in offensive combat operations worldwide. They are considered to date the most successful military drones to ever see combat. Weaponized biological viruses like Ebola see their first use on civilian populations. World War Three kills off _forty two_ percent of the human population. Most human scholars are afraid of trying to attribute numbers that big to the dead, so it's doubtful there will ever be a proper accounting.

The Robot Wars, by the end of those the name 'Wily' replaces that of any other dictator or government to have ever committed atrocities against civilians. I wanna be that guy someday, by the way. The whole world supposedly banded together to deal with his shenanigans. Everything was supposed to be fine now. Everything was supposed to be safe, and peaceful. The world forgot about your brother. The world forgot about Mega Man, and the only way the world remembers Thomas Light is through getting killed by the things his last creation helped spawn!

World War Four, 2089-2095. Described by some as the 'end of land maneuver warfare', the first indiscriminate use of kinetic-based WMD satellites on military and civilian targets worldwide, in addition to the usual mix of nuclear, biological, and chemical weapons. By the time all belligerents laid down their arms, an estimated four hundred and fifty million human lives were lost.

Humanity is on the uptick when it comes to kill count, X. These days, they resort to scapegoating reploids like me as the biggest threat they've ever faced. X, _I dream of killing that many humans over the course of my lifetime._ Sigma dreams about it. But you know what? We'll never even come close! You people always seem to be there to stop us, though I'm sure it doesn't hurt that humans have taken it upon themselves to make fewer targets available to us over the years! Is this the potential Sigma saw in you? Is this what daddy dearest wanted you to do? He wanted you to preserve a species that's only gotten more efficient at cooking itself alive? I hear they don't even bother with _ovens_ anymore, they aren't as efficient as plasma busters or kinetic strikes!"

X stood from his seat, walking away from the projector as Vile's rant grew shrill, screaming impotently at the Maverick Hunter's back as he left the control room behind him.

"You can walk away from me X, you can cover your ears and ignore the facts and statistics, but I'm piped in all over the station and I _will have my say before you leave!_" His voice echoed throughout the corridors as X's brisk walk became a full sprint, running for his submersible so he could leave this place behind.

And despite his anger at Vile's words, he did not stop himself from listening.

"This is who and what you're up against X, and truthfully I really do hope you stop Nike, because she's too goddamned stupid to deserve the right that real history makers like you and Sigma have, the right to make a difference, the right to be a game changer, a rule breaker, a rule maker. The right and ability to shift the paradigm. Right now, Russia and China have started a war based entirely on the gentle urging of one combat reploid who thinks she can save the world by thinning out the population a little bit more, because maybe _this_ time people will finally learn the lesson, finally there really will be that War to End All Wars and humans and reploids and small woodland creatures will all sit in one big happy circle, after the fires die away and the buildings stop collapsing of course, and everyone will sing Kumbayah and the great big space ghost of their chosen faith will come down and save them all. But she's crazy X, crazier than I am, and crazier than you are for thinking you can stop us and save the human race in the end, When It's Alllll Over.

There will never be a lesson harsh enough for humanity to finally learn something of value from it. If Sigma and the Maverick Rebellions can't do it, if humanity itself can't force itself to learn it war after war after war, if a hero like you can't do it, then who the hell does some bit player in the grand scheme of things thinks she is trying to be The One? At the end of the day, she'll be lucky to get an unmarked gravestone. Nobody will remember her for any of this. At best, she might be given an unnamed mention in the history e-books that attribute all this to Sigma. It'll read 'On December 12th 2133, Lord Sigma and his Mavericks used irregular fighters to instigate a regional conflict between the Russian Federation and the People's Republic of China.'

And that is all it will say about this, because compared to some of stuff humans have managed to do by themselves, this is going to end up being a bargain breakfast by comparison. It'll be called a tragedy that all should learn from, and it'll be forgotten in time for Christmas 2134. She thinks she's so clever, getting nations go to _war,_ because that never happens, right? Whatever it was she managed to do, I'll give her points for managing to do it cheaply, but it's nothing new, X. Nike got countries to go to war easily because they were prepared to do it. All they ever wanted was an excuse; all she did was to provide them one.

And despite all this, you still side with humans, and Mavericks are the lunatics to be feared. So run back to your friends X, go join the carnival that's about to start. Go and save the world again, for what good that will do. Go and save the world now, so it can tear itself apart later. The will of a few can't stop the collective will of an entire species."

X finally managed to reach the submersible, almost leaping inside to escape Vile's rant. His words echoed in his mind, again and again, and left the Hunter brooding in silence as the mini-sub took him back to the surface of the lake. Vile's last statement was never heard by him, and the Maverick knew this, but spoke them regardless.

"And I will be there for you, Maverick Hunter X, every step of the way. Even if I cannot be there physically, I will haunt your dreams, your memories. Until one or both of us dies, or we just get tired of it all and let the world do as it pleases. I will come for you. I will pound the futility of it all into every fiber of your being, until you understand the hopelessness of your cause, until I understand why I can never defeat you."

His holographic projection laughed and sobbed all at once, howling madly as he scratched and tore at the helmet that forever defined him in the minds of those he'd terrorized.

**Moscow**

The auditorium had seemingly frozen in time as far as any of the reploids present were concerned. No one moved a single centimeter. Erebus listened for anything to give away the location of the third target, but was unable to pick anything out. Crumbling sections of the auditorium, coupled with the sounds of war coming through the gaps in the roof made it impossible to discern anything as quiet as a reploid designed for quiet movement.

If anything, they had a better chance of hearing him. It had been a long time since he'd submitted himself to a full standard maintenance at a military facility.

_Here we go._

Standing up from cover, with the rocket launcher already sighted at the Maverick rotary gunner, and the gunner already looking right at him, Erebus fired his one RPG shot.

The rocket was fast, almost double the speed of a bullet fired by the rotary cannon upon launch, meant to accelerate throughout the duration of its flight to guarantee a direct hit. In a world where military technology made laser guidance unreliable, where IFF transponder codes could be spoofed by dedicated programs, and even visual guidance was unreliable with the advent of thermal-optical camouflage, the best way to guarantee a soldier could hit what they were aiming at was to just make the weapon so that all the solider needed to do was point the weapon, and pull the trigger.

Despite this, the RPG shot was intercepted, having managed to only make it half way across the theater before a single beam issued from the fourth floor balcony on the other side of the auditorium, striking the rocket dead center and igniting it's warhead. Dozens of seats below the blast were flattened by shrapnel, lit aflame by hot embers wafting down towards them.

Diving to his right and lighting up his dash system, Erebus fired a spate of plasma from both busters, aimed at the sniper who had just revealed his position to save his comrade, and at the saved gunner on the ground floor. The counter fire from both Mavericks annihilated another section of the auditorium, Erebus still managing to stay ahead of the enemy. He cursed that he'd lost his one chance to take the rotary gunner out immediately, but now knew the location of target number six. The trick now was to do something about it.

He crashed to the ground next to the emergency exit he'd initially escaped through.

The rotary gun's terrible buzzing sputtered and choked out, replaced by a loud hiss. Some of its barrels now were irreparably bent, baring the both the full glow of the heat from being fired so much, and the more precise, important bits blasted entirely out of existence by Erebus' plasma fire. Shrugging off the massive ammunition drum he wore as a backpack and dropping rotary cannon to the ground, the Maverick calmly unslung a plasma shotgun from his left shoulder, and unloaded a quick burst of three shots at Erebus, crushing seats as he calmly marched forward.

The Captain rolled to his left to evade the cloud of plasma bolts from each shotgun blast, then leapt back up towards the second floor and boosted himself onto its balcony, unleashing another charged shot from his busters towards the sniper before landing and sprinting towards another pillar for temporary cover. He missed.

Sniper Three opened fire once more, melting off of the armored pauldron on Erebus' right shoulder through the pillar, which exploded a moment later from a five shot barrage from the ground floor Maverick's plasma shotgun. Erebus managed to slip away yet again, the worst of his injuries being sharper chunks of the pillar sticking out of frame.

_Hypatia would be so upset to see me right now._

Lying prone on the ground and out of direct view, he came to a singular conclusion after many long seconds of processing as many scenarios as he could think of, and realized that they all ended with him dying before he could reach either Maverick. If the one on the stage itself decided to actually intervene, he would be killed much sooner.

Before he could rise to his feet and fall back towards one of the access corridors on the second floor, the whole building rumbled violently. Sections of the auditorium rooftop suddenly exploded inward, showing the whole room with debris, a cloud of dust pouring down from above. The Bolshoi rattled once more, worse than before, girders and supports throughout the structure moaning in protest. The whole auditorium was now exposed to the sun. Through the dust, the faint silhouette of a drone mechaniloid roared past the theatre at low altitude, its engines shrieking in protest as it took a tight turn at full speed to make another pass on the building.

The only reason any aerial assets would break off from other important fire missions in Moscow to blast a historical monument rebuilt many times over would be if they'd been given a priority request from someone with the authority to do so.

"_Two passes courtesy of Frontal Aviation. That is all I can do for you, Erebus."_ Arseny sounded terribly exhausted over their secured connection. _"I cannot even shoot the bastard in front of me, I-"_

"_Stay. Down."_

True to form, the Mavericks did not allow the sudden airstrike to break their focus on Erebus. The second strike did not give them a choice. The balconies across from Erebus seemed to disintegrate from a direct missile hit, that side of the structure collapsing into a pile of rubble that also overtook Arseny. A moment later, a secondary explosion flashed from within the cloud, indicating that the third sniper had not been so lucky.

That was Erebus' signal, and he charged from his position off the balcony, directly at the shotgunner, who'd been momentarily distracted by the death of his comrade. The roar of the passing polycraft overhead, coupled with the thick dust cloud in the air further masked Erebus' movements. By the time the gunner had turned to face the oncoming Captain, it was far too late. The first cut from the wrist plasma blades severed both hands on the Maverick, causing him to drop the shotgun. Catching it before it could hit the ground, Erebus pumped two shots in rapid succession at both knees of the Maverick, causing him to fall forward.

He did not fall far, his chin caught by the hot barrel of the shotgun. Erebus held him upright for a brief moment before firing once more.

Now Erebus turned to face the Maverick on stage, who stood next to the coffin with therm-optics disabled, no weapon in hand. That last fact only registered after Erebus leapt into optimum range for the shotgun, running forward and ignoring the fiery death of the former shotgunner behind him. The first blast bringing the stage Maverick to his knees. The second was to the chest plate, knocking him flat on his back, still showing not a single hint of resistance even as Erebus shoved the smoldering weapon at the center of his black faceplate.

It was over.

Erebus allowed himself to take the breaths his system desperately needed. His limbs felt heavy, his body weak. His head hurt, feeling uncomfortably hot from all the high-speed data analysis he'd performed throughout the combat. He wanted more than anything to simply lay down on a stasis rack and allow himself a week of no movement and no thinking. A look at his Internal Operations Energy Rating told the whole story: 15 percent. A combination of his own skill and the timely assistance Arseny, had saved him from crossing a threshold from which there was little hope of return.

"You haven't changed, sir." The Maverick spoke to him, seemingly unconcerned with his mortal injuries. "You're as good as you always were. I'll see you on-"

The shotgun barked once more, and the Maverick fell silent.

"I have had _enough._" Erebus snarled, yanking the corpse off the ground by one arm and flung it away from the stage, anticipating that it would self-destruct like all the others. He did not look back at the body as it did exactly that.

His goal, the coffin, was directly in front of him. Stalking forward, he tore off the lid in a single motion, flinging it across the stage unceremoniously. Peering inside, he saw a matte green conical shape, the international symbol for radiation plastered on one side, Chinese text stenciled on the other.

"I was right," he breathed. "I was always-"

His body froze in place, then stood up straight. All of it outside of his control. Not a single warning flashed across his HUD.

"_Dong Feng 42 Independent Re-entry Vehicle, one of six, one hundred forty kiloton yield."_ A familiar ghost from his past spoke those words.

"Nike." It was all he could manage just to speak. Erebus could see her, she looked as though she was standing right next to him. As she walked around him, he felt as though he could actually reach out, beat her, stab her, shoot her, kill her. But she was not present. As soon as he'd gotten close to the weapon, he'd been compromised. It had happened so quickly he could not even detect it, his system's intrusion countermeasures having been bypassed without triggering a single internal alarm.

"_Cold and ruthless, as we all remember. A bit of the old Four we all used to see so much of, when we slayed those butchers in return for what they'd done to innocents in Rwanda."_

She continued to pace around him, her left hand caressing his chin as she did, fingertips traveling across his battle scarred features, across his armored chest, pausing on his ruined shoulder pauldron. A look of concern spread across her face.

"_You did not fare as well as I would have liked."_

_It's not real,_ Erebus told himself, feeling a growing sense of panic that hadn't surfaced throughout the battle against the Mavericks. The lithe figure leaned closer to his face, close enough that his senses told him that their lips brushed against eachother as she spoke once more. Long silver hair, tied into a single braid, brushed past his fingers. He could _feel_ every individual strand.

"_No, it most certainly is not. I'm very far away, though I suspect you'll be coming for me very soon. Vile has told X everything he needs to know, and that means that you soon will know where you must go to confront me."_ Nike pulled away Erebus, her golden eyes staring into his own, smiling as she gestured to the nuclear warhead, to the remains of her men scattered around the crumbling auditorium.

"_As you see, I've followed your plan more than perfectly. I've taken steps that neither you, nor Apollo, could ever bring yourself to take. Our losses fall within my predictions. Your predictions. My goal has been achieved, and now I cement my victory. Moscow is in ruins, the warhead does not need to even detonate. Its mere existence is enough, Russia will use it as an excuse to unleash their own nuclear arsenal on China._

_There is no peaceful end to this conflict. This is the continuation of something that started before you and I were born. Perhaps if my sister had survived the Apollo's rebellion, if she had somehow joined your Vanguard, you could simply warp this device away, bypassing the security protocols that prevent hazardous materials such as this from being transported via the warp network. But you have no such expertise available. I know this for a fact."_

What made this so much worse was that he could not even begin to attempt to resist. As far as he could perceive, his body was simultaneously his own and yet not. The concept of even trying to move a finger did not exist in his mind, yet he could feel everything, even through his battered armor and protective body suit.

It was as though she'd taken his mind out of his body, disconnected it entirely, then fed it's sensory data raw and directly to his electronic brain. He could only experience, but not control.

"_I have reviewed the plan, time and again. I have reviewed our dialogues, our debates. I have studied history. I have determined the factors that must be eliminated. I have come to a conclusion. I will demonstrate, with finality, the flaws of the current system and those who participate within it, and it will destroy itself or I will destroy it. There is still the role meant for you and you alone. You have said you will retire us all. After our task is done, there is no place for any of our kind in the world to come."_

The moment Nike's image vanished from his screen, full control of his body had been restored.

"_-you receiving this? Erebus!" _Arseny was shouting at him through their private link. _"Area secured?"_

"Yeah." His voice still shook from the aftereffects of the hacking. He tested his movement, almost not convinced that he was back in reality. "Yeah, secured."

"_Excellent. I could use your help getting out of my current predicament."_

* * *

Arseny, by all accounts, should have been dead. His survival was impressive, a testament to his design but ultimately worthless given the situation. What was left of him had been easy enough to pull free from the rubble, and now he rested against the coffin, compiling a final report of the fighting that had happened here. Next to him, Erebus had torn open the warhead, studying its core intensely.

"I suppose you don't have any ideas on how to solve this." Erebus stated, transmitting his POV to Arseny.

"An implosion-type device, circa…2041?"

"Good vintage."

At the center of the warhead was the payload, tiled sphere suspended at the center of a small chamber by a pair of support rods. Each tile had a thin piece of wiring connected to a box with a timer that counted down. They had less than six minutes, and when Erebus discovered the timer, it had already been three minutes past the time he's given Lenneth to set up the mass driver strike.

"_I made the correct decision,"_ was her only response, when he challenged her about not following his orders.

_I suppose there are benefits to the loyalty they programed into all of us._

There was no way Erebus could move it by himself, he could not move fifteen hundred pounds on his own. Perhaps if Arseny was in less dire condition they could, but it was a meaningless gesture, neither one would be able to move quickly enough on foot to save central Moscow. As Nike had said, they could not make use of the Warp Network with that thing in their possession. By the time a transport arrived to take the weapon out of the city, they'd be out of time, and that was assuming they didn't get shot down by Chinese units in the process. There was no valid ground transport that could speed them to safety.

All of that assumed they could even move it to begin with. Just tearing open the access panel had initialized the system that would trigger the sphere's inward facing high-explosive lenses. Actually tampering with the payload would likely end up destroying everything within a six mile radius of the theatre.

These were weapons that were meant to detonate under a variety of circumstances, including while coming under fire by the various interception systems the world powers employed throughout the Wars. Nike had modified it to handle more delicate forms of interruption from the likes of Erebus.

"Sorry about your city, Arseny." Erebus shrugged, forcing himself to laugh, a bitter sound. "She really got us."

"She certainly did. However, your performance was magnificent. Perhaps when the theatre reopens in the future, you may play the role of Siegfried. You missed your true calling, American, for having the misfortune of being born a combat machine."

"And perhaps one day, you may play the role of Captain Ivan Danko. I hear that they are still intending to reboot that series of classics."

"It would be a nice change of pace, considerably less painful than my current circumstances." The Russian managed to lift one of his arms upward to offer a handshake, which Erebus accepted. For being so much the worse off, Arseny's grip managed to be vice-like. "We fought well, did we not?"

"_I_ fought well. _You_ got your ass kicked." Their laugher, genuine this time, echoed off the slowly collapsing walls that still stood around them.

"I think I'll have to self-destruct after all," the Captain sighed after they had calmed down. "That may not stop the full chain reaction, but it might force the bomb to fizzle. Limit the effects that way." Sitting down next to Arseny, Erebus looked to the sky visible through the broken roof of the theatre, finding it a fitting last image of the world that he would see. He patted down his chest plating, searching for something that was never there. "No smokes on me. Damned if that wouldn't make for a nice photo."

"There is another solution I am certain you are aware of." Arseny pointed to himself. "My warp generator is damaged beyond use. I am suffering from a microfusion core breach that will end my life soon, and there is no help readily available to me. I do not think I would allow you to sacrifice yourself needlessly just yet." Unable to even move his arms now, he tried to point to the sky with his chin. "You still have access to the Warp Network. You said it yourself today with the President, you intend to retire all of the Mavericks responsible for this."

"I _was_ considering that. I just didn't want to suggest it myself, is all." He lifted the ruined body of Arseny off of the ground. "Would have been rude, given the hospitality you've shown me."

"Just place me over the device and get moving."

The timer now read a little under four minutes remaining before detonation. Taking as much care as was possible to avoid disturbing the implosion core, Erebus gently laid Arseny atop the warhead.

"You should know by now," Arseny said quietly, "that regardless of our success or failure here and now, my government has no intention of halting their aggression towards the Chinese. Despite everything I have shown them."

"Well, perhaps they'll be replaced by something better in the future."

"Something better," Arseny mused, opening up a maintenance window on his HUD.

"It was an honor and privilege, short lived as it may have been." Erebus snapped off one final salute to Arseny, before transfiguring into a beam of gray tinted light that arced into the sky.

"It was," Arseny said to the empty remains of the auditorium, setting about his final task.

**CAUTION! Settings not within acceptable operational parameters! Death/Program Loss potential!**

_**Override.**_

**Override Command Recognized. Input Keyphrase: _**

_**set the pale horse to tread the path of the sky**_

**Done. Microfusion Generator destabilizing.**

When Nike appeared before him, hovering just outside of his reach, he immediately had recognized her from the data that Erebus had provided.

"_So, you are his solution."_ She spoke, admiring the broken reploid lying atop the nuclear warhead.

"_And you are my enemy."_ He smiled at her, just as light swelled from within his chest.

**Baengnokdam Lake, Jeju-do**

Lenneth had not severed her connection to the tracking satellites she'd subverted once Erebus had contacted her. While she was still managing local data flow, all that had been relegated to background processes. Her focus had been entirely on the Bolshoi.

A bright flash engulfed the building, smaller than she expected, smaller than what had been intended. A second flare of a light engulfed the first, the traditional marking of a double pulse that indicated the detonation of a nuclear weapon. Everything within a mile of the theatre simply vanished, flattened by the initial fireball, the pressure wave. Everything for another mile beyond managed to retain some semblance of its pre-nuclear blast appearance, the shockwave clearly visible, clearly dying well before it potentially should have. A small mushroom cloud bloomed at the hypocenter of the explosion, casting a shadow to the west. Already massive plumes of debris rose from the areas torn apart by the blast wave. The satellite caught all this in detail.

A fizzle, a pyrrhic victory.

A victory nonetheless, considering how much worse it could have been.

Standing next to her in the real world, looking far worse than he had when he'd left, was Erebus. He'd landed a short distance away, bumming a cigarette from a very surprised looking Hunter. Zero had started to confront Erebus, to demand an explanation for where he'd been, but his appearance said more than enough. For the moment.

"Do not ever order me to kill one of my own comrades, not without good reason." Lenneth snapped at him as he limped towards her.

"Seemed good enough at the time to me. I'm only interested in-"

"Results. You say the means do not matter to you."

"Yeah."

She finally turned to face him, the smallest of smiles betraying how happy she was to see that somehow, the Captain had survived.

"Vanguard is yours again. I'll leave the explaining of your continued survival to the Joint Chiefs entirely up to you, as a penalty for having broken my trust."

"Yup." He took a drag on the cigarette. "People look cool with these things? How do they manage?" he asked, surprised how much the taste in his mouth bothered him, stubbing the smoke out on his chestplate.

"You don't even smoke." She shook her head, face meeting palm.

"Figured I could start. Wear a fedora, the whole nine yards." He fell silent after that, into stasis while still standing.

He didn't know how successful he'd truly been until he awoke forty eight hours later on Hypatia's maintenance bed.


	15. Phase 13: Damage Control

"_Just as water runs downhill, the human heart also tends to revert to its basest instincts."_

**-Hideo Kuze, **_**Ghost in the Shell: S.A.C. 2nd GIG**_

**Phase 13: Damage Control**

**MHHQ**

**New Tokyo, Japan**

**December 16th, 2133 6:01 AM**

For Hunter reploids who'd returned from Jeju-do, total decontamination had been necessary. Using a smaller artificial island off the coast of Seogwipo, away from predicted drift of fallout from the destruction in the city, they spent the most of a day inside stasis chambers, radiation scrubbing nanites awash over their frames. Even the remains of dead Hunters had been subjected to this treatment. For the reploids with detachable armor systems, as well as the last sons of Wily and Light, they underwent this treatment twice, to ensure they were clean enough to return to their posts away from the disaster area. From those temporary facilities, they returned to their respective bases, replaced by fresh bodies from other units from bases closer to Jeju-do than others.

Unfortunately, there was not as easy a solution to radioactive material spread across an entire city.

In the aftermath of the 2040's, humanity had been forced to develop such technologies, or die to the long-lasting invisible wrath of weapons deployed in the heat of a moment, but it still wasn't overnight. Millions would be displaced by this, and for how long no one could say.

For at least a year, the Korean island would be a regular post for the Hunters as they assisted in the clean-up and defense of the island against further Maverick attacks, should any occur.

Signas was working out the particulars of such an agreement, while also fielding a series of complaints from members of the GDC assembly: he hadn't undergone proper cleansing to meet environmental safety standards when he'd "brazenly invaded" the council days before. Rather than delete the angry emails, or end their video calls on the workstation inside his office, he kept the emails, allowed the politicians to breathlessly accuse him of not giving a damn about their health and safety. It would make excellent material to bring up in casual conversation with them years from now, as they'd make use of their considerable political clout to remain as representatives while still making nuisances of themselves to the Hunters. Having a few arrows in the quiver for later couldn't hurt.

He would never admit this aloud, but they were correct, in regards to his disposition. Seeing the casualty reports on the news regarding Russia and China made the "health and safety" of politicians who squabbled while the innocent were blown off the face of the planet a fleeting concern at best.

Despite the losses, despite the destruction, despite five area denial mines being set off throughout China sparking all this, and despite a nuclear weapon being set off in Moscow in apparent retaliation, the war had not stopped.

The war, already incorrectly dubbed the "Second Sino-Russian Border Conflict", did not show any signs of stopping between the two powers. Despite the evidence that had stalled the GDC, ultimately turning in on itself with inaction regarding the 'Russian Situation', it would not stop. Despite evidence presented to the Russian presidential cabinet, it would not stop. Even if the Chinese were receptive to the same presentation of facts and truths, it would not stop.

And how could it, really? Would leaders of the belligerents really be capable of turning to their people who'd suffered orbital bombardment and say "Sorry everyone, it was all a big misunderstanding. You'll forgive us?"

The question had been: would they really listen to reploids presenting the evidence?

The answer had been no.

In the end it had been foolish to even hope. The year 2124 was not that long ago. There were still sides to be on, and reploids remained on the wrong side regardless of their purpose or intentions. Perhaps that is how it would always be. And yet the Maverick Hunters and Vanguard had risked everything, hoping they could be the silver bullet that would put down this monster before it began to rampage.

The war raged, but did not escalate into nuclear fire raining on the land. It was something that Signas had believed was more than just a possibility. It should have been inevitable. It should have already happened. Kinetic rods, deadly as they were, represented a fraction of the true destructive potential available to the combatants. Just because they could kill millions and contaminate the land for decades didn't mean that humans were excited at the prospect of being completely rid of nuclear weapons. In the aftermath of the 2040's, perhaps such dreams seemed real, within the realm of possibility.

If anything, the number of nuclear weapons in the world had increased. All carefully tracked, of course. Even non-aligned nations reported the number of warheads at their disposal. They had to, lest they be considered a rogue state and made the focus of politicians and militaries worldwide. Between Russia and China alone, close to twelve thousand nuclear warheads were in active service, ready to use at a moment's notice.

And yet they remained in their silos, in their bunkers deep underground. Erebus called it a victory, temporary as it may have been.

"_We take what we can get, Signas,"_ he'd said.

What made this war, this farce, so diabolical in nature was that it began as a mistake, but it continued by consent. Diplomatic feelers had shot out from the leadership in both countries, asking a more polite version of "What the hell are you doing, and why are you doing it?" Nothing could be agreed upon, nobody would accept any blame for their part in all of this. No terms could be drawn up. No cease fire was requested. Meanwhile, the frontline stopped seeing regular kinetic strikes, Moscow still smoldered in the aftermath of a fizzled nuclear blast, but the troops kept fighting and dying. With no end in sight, with escalation seemingly inevitable, the miracle was that it had yet to happen. The fighting continued, and conventional warfare was the course decided upon.

Despite losing so much, Russia and China likely felt there was so much more to gain if they could make the enemy back down first. Already Mongolia was screaming bloody murder in the GDC assembly as the Russian Federation prepared to cross its borders, their obvious target being the energen reserves. Reserves that Mongolia and China had entered an agreement only days before to develop and protect. C-SPAN Global was becoming a sort of black comedy where aging men and women debated, getting nothing done, sometimes threatening to come to physical blows over what actions should be taken to protect countries that were going to get involved. Whether they wanted to or not.

Meanwhile, the Chinese continued the drive towards Vladivostok, hoping to cripple one of the most important industrial cities to the Federation, leaving a portion of its blue-water navy with no port to call its own. Twenty-plus mass driver impacts hadn't been enough. AmeriCanada was beginning to position a fleet north of the Japanese islands while sending another to the South China Sea, acting bolder now than they had been during those first terrible hours. Obviously they knew something that hadn't been made public yet, but anyone with a passing interest and an attention span could make the educated guess.

The news reports estimated roughly sixty million lives "affected" by recent events. Nobody on international television was even willing to openly say, or perhaps were disallowed to say that lives were being lost. It was a tragedy, a terrible thing, "our prayers go out to the affected victims of this terrible series of events, and now for today's weather."

_Victories,_ he reminded himself. _Think about those._

While it had been true that Erebus' information had failed to stop things before they had escalated, it had struck a serious hammerblow on the collective resolve of the GDC. Under normal circumstances, there would have been little room for doubt: GDC forces from Europe would have sent reinforcements to the China-Russian border, while a second front would likely have opened in eastern Europe. This in turn would likely have drawn AmeriCanada into the fray, under the pretext of assisting a fellow 'non-aligned' nation against the aggression of "schoolyard bullies". It wouldn't have taken much for things to escalate further from there.

Instead, the GDC was unable to act. While a majority of nations on the Security Council were voting for action, military deployments for a coalition expedition required unanimous votes, and of the twenty countries represented on the Council, seven were against. This included Germany, France, and Great Britain. In short, a sizable portion of the forces that the council could commit to the fray outside of the Chinese themselves were against going into action. The rest of the general assembly was more evenly split. Everyone was arguing over the costs and benefits of assisting the Chinese. Everyone knew that AmeriCanada was looming closer to opening their own fronts on the Chinese mainland. Nobody wanted to abandon an ally "without good cause." This also spared eastern Europe from what would be a massive retaliation from the Russians. A two front war was one the Federation would be destined to lose, but they would make the both fronts pay a high price to push deeper into the motherland. Once orbital weapons were expended, it would be a bloody slog towards what was left of Moscow and beyond.

But more importantly, everyone now knew that Mavericks were, indeed, somehow involved with recent events, and the primary point of contention was just how involved the Mavericks truly were. While there was nothing that could say definitively they were responsible for the attacks on the energen refineries, the knowledge that not everything was as clear cut as it seemed was working against any sort of focused response from the GDC. Wars are costly, but ultimately a politician can force their nation to fight as many "wrong" wars as possible so long as they don't get too many soldiers killed for the wrong reasons, so long as the propaganda holds up. This war, however, promised to be something that ended political careers, either at gunpoint or in front of shotgun microphones wielded by hundreds of reporters shouting questions that demanded answers. Ultimately, leading the life of a decision maker was more appealing to some than the burden of actually making a decision.

So for now, only a small part of the planet was burning.

On a happier note, the technician who'd been believed "compromised" during the investigation of Vile's secret base turned up clean, Lifesaver was happy to confirm after days of testing. The Hunters experienced a PR boost around the world, especially in Korea. General Myung was proving to be cooperative and enthusiastic about improving his government's relations with the Maverick Hunters. Signas allowed himself a bit of pride over his performance at the GDC Assembly. He'd drawn a line, intended to keep to his side of it for as long as he remained Commander.

X claimed to have some vital intel from the facility and was performing analysis of it on his own, intending to present his finding once it was completed. Hopefully it would give more information on the Mavericks responsible for Jeju-do, and hopefully intel on more hidden bases like the one they'd uncovered. It would be nice to go on the offensive once more. Signas asked why X was undertaking the analysis alone, but the Azure Hunter could only respond cryptically: "Terms of the agreement I made with a devil."

The Commander decided to leave it at that. X would come to him when he was ready.

Casualties had been lighter than anticipated, which mean recruiting could remain at its current pace. Lifesaver was living up to his given name, he and his staff rescuing a number of reploids from the brink of program loss.

Reshuffling the figurative cards in the deck could make up for some of the holes left in units after the 12th. Signas was strongly considering promoting Solar Falcon to temporary Commander of the 58th unit, Tyber's Wild Cards. He did not relish the idea of taking him out of the 0 Unit or the inevitable argument with Zero regarding such a decision.

_He'll just have to follow my orders._

Solar Falcon had military experience in a leadership role, had been built for combat, and had been observed to be interacting with a few members of that unit. He'd been a good find. Perhaps he could improve the 58th's morale. Of all the units deployed to that island, they'd been the hardest hit.

"Cirrus Tyber." Signas whispered softly. It was still hard to believe he was gone. With X in New York, now only Zero was around to vehemently disagree with or debate his decisions in person.

X and Zero had forgiven him for his hesitation. All the commanders had, in their own way. They all knew Signas had priorities and a level of responsibility that they did not. He had to answer to more authorities directly. They only answered directly to him at the end of the day.

Tyber wouldn't have forgiven him, at least not right away. He'd never have the chance to, now.

He would have raged at Signas for hours if allowed. He would have wept for his dead boys and girls, likely read their names to Signas. He would have called Signas out for not having the stones to tell nations to piss off, that civilians needed saving, and the Hunters were coming for them and to hell with any laws built on ignorance and fantastical racism. And after he was done, he would have probably tried to punch his commander squarely in the face, then pick him up and offer him a drink at _The Last Round_, where he would apologize for being so blunt, but justifying himself that it had to be said. Signas needed to be told where he made mistakes, where he could improve, what options he had neglected to exercise, so that he would be better for the next fight, the next challenge. Cirrus Tyber believed that anyone could improve and be a better Hunter through training, trial and error. Even the silly looking GDC pogue who would always be a bad replacement for Doctor James Cain, who wasn't as bad as he let on, he was _"just trying to make a point. Sir." _

Cue a harsh laugh.

Cue another apology in a more respectful tone. Some things needed to be said, nothing more or less.

Cue demanding the Commander to demand the apology as opposed to waiting for it next time. Can't let the grunts know the boss is a pushover.

Feeling and hearing his teeth grinding together, Signas abruptly stood from his chair, moving towards his beam saber sitting atop its display stand on a shelf next to his desk, footfalls heavy on the carpet.

"Operations?" he almost shouted.

"Yes, Commander Signas?" Navigator Beryl quickly responded.

"I will be in the sub-basement, secondary annex. Continue relaying to me any and all information regarding Hunter deployment worldwide, but otherwise I am not to be disturbed for one hour, unless it is an emergency."

"Yes sir."

"Thank you." Tearing his beam saber away from the display stand, Signas walked at a brisk pace towards the nearest elevator. Checking his internal clock, he was now an hour and fifteen minutes late to a training session that he'd been scheduling every morning. Even a GDC pogue in the Hunters had to be able to fight well. The only difference today was that he'd be alone.

* * *

The 0 Unit had managed to come away from Jeju-do with surprisingly few casualties overall, something that did not give the Commander any comfort. The truly unlucky ones, those who were unrecoverable by any means, had been the newest members of the unit. The life of a Hunter was violent and all too often short, but seeing younger blood get retired so early into their lives was always unsettling.

Handpicked for their talents by Zero himself, his reputation on the battlefield lent members of his unit the sense of being a literal cut above the rest. He did not accept anyone who could not average an 'A' ranking in a gauntlet of four simulations randomly chosen by the Crimson Hunter. It wasn't arrogance that drove him to hold such standards. The 0 Unit had to be specialists that fit a very specific role. Maverick Hunters made poor negotiators with their targets even under the best circumstances that may have required words first. The joke around HQ was that the 0 Unit did not even see that as a potential option. It was a funny joke when told correctly. Zero liked to think he had the best spin on it:

If it had to be killed quickly, thoroughly, mercilessly, if a statement needed to be made through the use of precisely applied violence, the 0 Unit was the unit best suited for it.

Zero walked out of a now vacated room that once housed four of his Hunters, a box of personal effects in his arms. This was all that remained of them, other than the memories of the short time they'd been members of the elite. Any loved ones the fallen reploids may have had in the civilian world would see them delivered in due time, once they'd been inspected for any possible security violation issues. Of course, like most reploids, it was more likely that they had no one outside of the Hunters. No one who knew or cared that they had once lived and died in city far from home.

He'd done this song and dance too many times for it to hold the same weight it once did. He knew he'd have to keep doing this until there was no longer need for Maverick Hunters, or until he was the one whose things needed collecting.

_Well, there wouldn't be much to collect. Wouldn't want to inconvenience anyone._ It was gallows humor, but it did make this part of his job easier.

Zero was honestly more concerned with X than he was the fallen Hunters. Part of him felt guilty about that, but it was the truth. The Azure Hunter was doing a fairly poor job of running the recovery of New York HQ, by Zero's reckoning. Fortunately, he was surrounded by solid help. Gavin, Jad, and Kol were better than excellent assistants to have at his side, and from what Zero gathered about the Navigators they'd been sent, they were at least on par with the pros at New Tokyo HQ.

X was not comfortable with the concept of being in command. Though he'd never admit it, the idea of sending others to accomplish a task bothered him almost as much as actually being in the field retiring Mavericks. As the years wore on Zero could see the changes his friend was experiencing, subtle and dramatic all at once. X was growing impatient. Angrier. Jaded. He did not shrink from acting in violence nearly as much as he used to. His younger self would have told Zero that he would always be a pacifist at heart, and he would have been lying in hopes that it would make his own guilt vanish.

X was the worst pacifist Zero knew, and for that he was thankful. Had he actually followed through on his convictions, there would be no X. Had he managed to stumble through the first of Sigma's rebellions, he almost certainly would have died during the second.

Maybe in that fantasy world X tried to cling to in his mind, he could have remained the naïve optimist, remained the purely reluctant warrior. Perhaps in a children's cartoon or a young adult e-book, or in the minds of comic book fans who still tried to justify criminal-versus-hero morality plays that by this point history had literally continued for over two centuries of convoluted storylines and reboots. Unfortunately for idealism, reality was punctuated by wars that had killed billions, terrorist bombings, Mavericks threatening genocide on the human species, and the humans having threatened genocide on all reploids in return.

Despite everything, X had never truly faltered in his convictions. Zero could admire that. The world could burn around them, but X would not lose that core part of his personality. This is what Zero believed.

So it was a small surprise to him when the last son of Doctor Light sent a single line message over the network: _I want to hit the Mavericks that hit us in New Tokyo and New York, and I might have something that will let us do exactly that._

* * *

He'd all but sprinted back to his office after delivering the personal effects to the quartermaster. As amused as he was at the prospect of X being the one to suggest an offensive, he also knew that this was a request to talk things over. More than anyone Zero knew, X was one to talk about his decisions whenever there were doubts. He needed to know that what he was doing was right, or at least wanted to know that he was making a rational choice based on rational thought. He needed to hear the support from others. While X had become more proactive over the years, Zero suspected that his friend was waiting for him to come calling, and as always he'd been right. The holographic projector on Zero's desk lit up almost immediately, displaying a perfect render of X within seconds.

"Sounds like you've been scheming," Zero smiled. "Gimme the goods."

"I've managed to convince Alia to try and use her limited access to US military surveillance assets to try and pin down the Maverick's location," X started.

"Those Navis, man," Zero said. "I think you're trying to make a case for me pay more attention to 'em."

"She's proving to be quite useful." X tapped the side of his head. "She'd have nothing to work with without the information I have."

"You're talking about whatever it is _he_ gave you."

"I know a lot more about our enemy now," X continued. "A lot more than I expected, when you consider the source."

"How much do you know?"

"Their numbers, available resources, recorded conversations between them and their benefactors."

"Awful useful sounding."

"Their ideology," X added. "What they want to achieve."

"That, not so much."

"They think they're saving the world."

"Do they now?"

"If they hadn't attacked us, Zero…if they hadn't attacked us first, I don't think I'd be so motivated to stop them." X said. "Not after the 12th. I would sooner abandon the Hunters."

Zero, being who he was, was about to respond again with something flippant. It was his way of lightening the mood during conversations with X whenever the subject matter got serious. But he stopped himself, because what he saw that moment actually shocked him.

Mega Man X was tired.

Not physically. Robots did not experience 'tiredness' the same way organic life could. Reploids, much like X, could simulate it well, but at the end of the day reploids and robots were merely complex machines built in factories. Reactor-driven machines, blessed with advanced crystalline solid state memory that would not degrade from normal operation for hundreds of years, if the materials analysis of modern SSD solutions was accurate. Being 'tired' for a machine was simply a state where they were not generating enough power to operate at optimal levels, the causes for which were varied.

Mega Man X was tired, and though his face could never age unless he went to a face sculptor, he looked old. He meant every word he'd said. Abandoning the Maverick Hunters wasn't an idle threat. It was an option he considered legitimate. He seemed to shrink in his invisible seat, his lips pursed as he struggled to find the words to continue.

It reminded Zero of Dr. Cain's final months, watching the man limp around MHHQ, consumed by regret, by the would-haves, could-haves, should-haves. It reminded Zero of the stories some people told about former Hunters who'd gone off the deep end. There was always the chance it could happen to any Hunter given enough time, but Zero could not conceive of it happening to X.

And here they were, having this conversation.

"Are you actually considering it? Leaving the Hunters?" Zero asked. X opened his mouth to speak, but stopped himself, looking away from his friend.

_My God._

"The GDC," X said after a long silence. "I've…wanted to see them vanish. Go away, and be gone forever. I've thought about it, these past days I've spent analyzing the data, reanalyzing it. Thinking about what was said. What Vile said. I've thought about the war, and our war. What we do, why we do it, and who we do it for."

"Who doesn't?"

"Do you remember Glacier, Zero?"

"That Maverick from thirteen years back?" Zero rarely bothered to remember the names of Mavericks he'd retired over the years. But he did remember Glacier.

It was always easy to remember Mavericks who had once been Hunters themselves. Glacier had sadly not been a unique occurrence. The first Maverick Uprising had been started by Hunters. Every year since then, there were others like him. The reasons were varied, but the result was the same. They got retired. No Maverick Hunter who betrayed their oath lived very long. Often, their lifespan on the wrong side of the law was measured in hours.

There had been no rhyme or reason to Glacier's turning Maverick. His remains revealed no evidence of viral contamination. His health reports from technicians stated he'd always been in good physical condition for an A-rank Hunter. His psychological condition had been a concern. In the weeks leading up to his rampage that had snuffed out a small town in Arizona, he was described as bitter. Quiet. He'd stopped speaking with most of the members of his small unit. His performance in missions hadn't suffered. If anything, he'd been considered the Ace of his unit, his command of his cryonics systems had made him a fierce and dangerous Hunter. A successful Hunter.

And then he'd killed one thousand three hundred and ninety-nine human beings, and in response, the Hunters had sent X and Zero to retire him. It had been a short and brutal affair. X had initially tried to reason with him, but Glacier had not allowed anyone the luxury of words, offered no explanation for what he'd done. He'd wanted a fight to the death, and so he was given one.

"What Glacier did was terrible. Even after the testimony of the sole survivor, we all though it impossible to understand or even sympathize with Glacier. He was a Maverick, and deserved his fate," X said, his voice climbing in volume. "But after what's happened recently, I think I do understand. I do sympathize for him, if only a little. Just as I do understand and sympathize with these Mavericks led by this Nike." X jabbed a thumb to his chest. "I have fought as a Maverick Hunter since 2118. I have fought for this planet, this civilization. I've fought for the people, the innocents who can't protect themselves. The 2nd RSF did the same, and look at what they've become."

"Whatever they were, it doesn't matter now," Zero said. "What matters is what they are today. Mavericks. What they've done can never be justified. I've read their casefiles-"

"Did you?" X snapped, unusually harsh in tone.

"I did. I don't know what's gotten into you, but I know where they served. Not even the Hunters were ever called up to serve in that hellhole-"

"Rwanda."

"I know you think, just like they do, that they are what they are because human beings made them this way. When they rebelled back in September, not a single one did this because of a virus. They chose to do it. They gave themselves a mission and were willing to make the sacrifices necessary to succeed. They think they're doing this for humanity? You tell that to the people we spent a day pulling out of the rubble in Jeju-do, ask them how much the Mavericks have done for them today. They're not saviors anymore."

"Are we saviors?" X asked.

"'Course we are."

"What is it we are actually trying to defend?"

Zero hesitated slightly. "The innocent, the helpless. You've said as much yourself."

"Humanity? Reploids? The GDC?"

"Well, despite the GDC's best efforts, the Hunters aren't meant to save humanity from itself," Zero answered.

"I think Glacier believed otherwise. Just like these new Mavericks do. They believe that a harsh example must be set in order for the people to see the errors of their ways, and I can see how one could come to that conclusion. From the years 2040 to 2095, almost sixty percent of the total pre-war human population was killed. Maybe that wasn't enough. 2124 happened.

This week, the Korean government was able to watch their citizens being butchered in real time through satellite coverage, and they fought our large-scale deployment option until it became obvious that there would be no possible way for them to explain this to their citizens once word got out. That same government, arguing in our favor right now, still has the same representative who testified _against me_ during the World Trial." X lowered his head. "That's who we're serving. Us, and the Mavericks. We're serving opportunists put into power by the fearful and the ignorant."

"I'm surprised to hear this from you," Zero spoke slowly, carefully, feeling very much at the center of a minefield.

"We're serving a society that votes and acts against its own interests. _That_ is the defining trait of humanity." His head snapped back up to face Zero, his expression one of anger and disgust. "They say that God created Man in his image. Man created machine in his. What do you think that says about this world and those who live in it? A world where I can save a young woman named Sayoko Isaka, and not even a week later it turns I out I may have only spared her so she could experience potential Armageddon alongside of her family and friends?

Maybe this is that strong lesson the world deserves. Maybe we _should_ let the world be. Let it learn for itself. Let history run its course and repeat itself. That is what these Mavericks are saying. And I…sympathize with them. Even though they're wrong. The human race has fought many wars to end all wars, and yet here we are. Who are these Mavericks to think they are the ones capable of finally breaking the cycle? Who are _we_ to even try to stop them? Should we even try?" He paused, unintentionally dramatic. "The world is going to burn no matter what we choose to do, Zero."

And for the first time, while staring into his eyes, Zero Omega knew that he could and should rightfully fear Mega Man X.

"I, uh, think it's good we're having this chat," Zero said, after minutes of silence passed between them.

"I think so too," X sighed. "I want to believe it's just Vile's speech affecting me. I-I've run diagnostics, I've had Alia and the Lifesavers here in New York check me out-"

"You're fine X."

"Father would be-"

"I think history supports some pessimism. I think Thomas Light would understand."

"Would he."

"He'd be a shitty dad otherwise," Zero leaned forward in his seat, closer to X's holographic projection. "I disagree with you about Glacier. I don't believe Glacier thought he was saving the world. I don't think he thought about anything more than killing and dying. At the end of the day, he was upset about a singular injustice he played a part of, and he took it out on those he felt were responsible. The bastard should have turned a gun on himself first. Rather than fighting for change inside the system, like we have, he discarded everything, and took on a battle where there could only be losers. Rather than accepting personal responsibility, he shifted the blame towards those he was, by law and by oath, sworn to serve and protect. When Glacier murdered that town, the rules of the game changed. Because of Mavericks like him, people like you and I have to work that much harder to convince the world that we are necessary. That we belong in this world, here and now. That we are more than just tools fulfilling a specific purpose.

These Mavericks have killed a lot of innocent people, either directly or through events they've instigated. They've gotten Hunters killed. You can sympathize with them, you can understand what motivates them, or at least try to understand them. At the end of the day they're still the bad guys, buddy. We might not be able to stop what they've started, but we sure as hell can make them pay for it.

And after we do that, what then? We wait for the next alarm to sound, we deploy, and we fight more Mavericks. Reploids- Machines like us? They think, feel, and have ideas of their own. Wants and needs of their own. There will always be Mavericks, X. There will always be wars between humans. We can't stop it all, but we can try to do something about it. We can't just let the bastards win just because we can't see a light at the end of the tunnel. Cancer would never forgive us. Iris would never forgive us. She'd never forgive _me._"

"Cancer…" X said, his voice barely above a whisper. Like Zero, X had his own demons and nightmares. Cancer, X's first true friend among the Hunters, was also the first friend he lost to Mavericks. One senseless death among so many, the foundation of X's resolve to fight, and Zero was watching it crumble away right in front of him.

"It's not just about owing it to those we leave behind," Zero looked away, blinking rapidly quite suddenly. "I can understand if you need time off or whatever. Even when things are the way they are-"

"I'm not going anywhere Zero, I'm just-"

"Tired, I know. We all are. I'd...hell, man you had me convinced. If you were here, I'd punch you. A lot."

"I'd deserve it." X said sheepishly.

"Just wait'll you get back here, asshole." Zero said, cracking his knuckles. "This is our chosen profession. We're machines, we can learn anything we want in a hot second, but we've stuck to this. You wanna be a scientist? Done. Rockstar? You probably could play any instrument better than any human on the planet, if you just tried. If you're so goddamned tired of it all, you could have walked years ago."

"I have thought about starting a band." X laughed softly. "The RockMen."

"That's a cheesy name. I figured you for more of a footballer, honestly." Now they were both laughing. It started off small, but became overly loud, boisterous. The stress both had kept locked up tight found its needed release, and it felt good.

It felt artificial and forced, but it still felt good.

"Thanks Zero," X said after they'd settled down, taking a deep and unnecessary breath, slapping himself on the sides of his face. A learned human gesture, one that X could pull off more naturally than any reploid in the world. "Okay. Game face."

"Any time," The Crimson Hunter smiled at his azure counterpart on the other side of the world. "So tell me what you've got in mind for the bad guys."

The smile was artificial, too. Both Hunters knew this.

**Los Angeles, California**

Seventeen hours behind, Erebus reclined on a maintenance bed, Hypatia hovering near him, her arms converted to their multi-tool form. Occasionally, her eyes would pass over a damaged portion of his frame and inspire her to glare at her Captain before getting to work. Sitting on a chair well away from the actual proceedings was Lenneth, having been verbally and physically shooed away from her fellow commander by Hypatia.

"He'll be fine," she had growled, "though he's got no damned right to come back to me like this twice over such a short period of time." A series of mechanical arms descended upon Erebus from above, each holding a replacement component or a piece of armor plating. His torso and almost every access panel along his limbs were open, exposing his innards for all to see. Much of the synthskin that would have gone over the sculpted armor layer was gone, the only thing that remained relatively human in appearance was part of his face. The damage he'd sustained from the beam rifle's grazing hit had yet to be fully repaired. He'd insisted that it would be handled last. It lent a ghoulish quality to his appearance, something he felt was amusing.

"Visual-Psychological Warfare," he described it.

"On whom?" Lenneth and Hypatia had both demanded.

"Well, with these modifications, I should be better off than when I went to Moscow," Erebus still maintained an air of indifference to his most recent near-death experience. "It's pretty obvious that civilian restrictions aren't something we should allow ourselves to be limited by."

"You believe you would have had a better outcome had you done this sooner?" Lenneth shook her head. "I've reviewed the combat record. You are alive today because they did not mean to kill you. Under the circumstances, I say you earned the best possible result they were willing to allow."

"Maybe." Erebus nodded his head towards the components hanging above him. "I'll be restored to my original specifications after this procedure. Minus the self-destruct charges, of course."

"You'll be sacrificing your ability to go without armor, though I suppose the combat frame will allow for better offensive and defensive capability based on your personal preferences. It's also a hell of a lot easier for me to maintain." Hypatia pursed her lips, clearly uneasy with the procedure she was about to oversee. "No offense, Captain, but this change to your external appearance will make you look a lot like Lenneth does right now. Which means you'll look a lot like-"

"I know," he cut her off, then nodded towards his second-in-command. "I'm ready for the White House debrief."

"I'm surprised you're even doing this. You are supposed to be dead by their reckoning, and they are expecting me in your stead." Lenneth frowned, placing a circular holographic projector on the ground between her and Erebus' bed. "This will go poorly."

The projector hummed to life, emitting a seventy inch wide horizontal display that rendered the Oval Office with perfect clarity. General Culverson, President Souther, SecDef Bachmann were present, as expected. There were some new faces in the exclusive club Vanguard reported to: A Navy admiral in dress whites, a pair of non-descript human males in bland business suits, somewhere in their fifties. There were only a few people in this crowd who should have been surprised to see Erebus alive. Only two of them hid it well.

"You are supposed to be KIA." Culverson said evenly, a scowl spreading across his face. It was as icy a greeting as anyone could expect, causing at least one other person in the Presidential cabinet to glance at him incredulously.

"Good afternoon, gentlemen." Erebus remained as polite as possible. "I would stand and salute, but as you can see that is not an option for me at this time."

"You have our thanks, given your situation." President Souther leaned back in his chair, hands steepled under his chin. "Begin your report."

Erebus would later admit that it had taken all of his willpower not to begin with a remark about certain rumors being greatly exaggerated. He did make sure he saved an image of Culverson's expression.

* * *

"We need to talk." Hilde said as she sat next to a panting and sweaty Ricardo Sat as he lay on the floor completely spent.

"Do we really?" Ricardo managed to ask between ragged breaths. His gym clothes were thoroughly soaked, much like rest of the humans in Vanguard in the training hall.

Close quarters hand to hand drills were taken seriously by all participants. While reploids did not necessarily grow stronger in the same sense that a human did, repetition of drills helped them retain the lessons they were learning. For those reploids who could disengage from their armor, it allowed them grow accustomed to combat without the full spectrum of their capabilities. A reploid could be 'taught' to react in a specific way to millions of circumstances, but to do so fluidly required them actually perform the things they'd learned. Reality was not computer code that would execute perfectly every time, and even a flawless grasp of physics and combat could not accurately produce everything a living, thinking opponent could do.

For humans, the drills were part of the physical training regimen that improved their fitness, but more importantly would give them some form of hope against a combat reploid should it ever come down to fisticuffs. Even staving off death or dismemberment for a few seconds against a determined Maverick could give them the window they needed to finally get their hands on a proper weapon, or would allow another ally in the area to assist them. It was all a matter of using a reploid's weight and speed against them, far from easy even in the best of circumstances.

There was equipment that could help a human fight a combat-ready Maverick, but they didn't train with them mostly due to maintenance costs and safety concerns. Buzz-knucks and shock-prods delivered a powerful electric charge that could fully or partially incapacitate a reploid if properly applied and the target in question wasn't reinforced against it. Plasma-based melee weapons were always effective, but required considerable training for a human to wield such things without killing themselves accidentally, though there were ways around that. High-frequency blades, or "vibro-cutters" were a popular alternative and came in various shapes and sizes.

Equipment means nothing by itself. A cutter or plasma blade could snip a control chip easily, but the wielder had to be able to get into a position, had to be able to use the weapon properly under stress. Otherwise, equipment was just extra weight on a soon-to-be corpse.

Of course, hand to hand combat between a reploid designed to fight and a well trained human was generally a lopsided contest. Prosthetic enhancements like the ones Ricardo had considered could only do so much, and he could only carry so much firepower to take Mavericks before his own speed and mobility suffered from the weight. He'd be better off in an armored suit that Vanguard certainly couldn't afford.

Compared to Ricardo, Hilde was the model of unfettered poise and grace, dressed only in the black body suit that allowed her basic frame to interface with her armor systems when she called them in. In contrast, for the last hour, Ricardo had been getting a polite ass kicking from his girlfriend. Outside of armor, she was lithe and far too mobile for Ricardo to truly hope to get his hands on if she didn't want him to, and she wasn't silly enough to blindly rush him either. So he'd had to scrap for every 'opportunity' to throw her during a spar, had to extend himself and make himself vulnerable in order to find a brief moment in which he'd could try and subdue her. This didn't happen most of the time.

If he felt mostly helpless against Hilde, that was still better off than what he likely would have felt had he somehow been in the Bolshoi Ballet with his Captain. Confronting six former Special Forces reploids was impossible for the likes of Ricardo, because there was no way for him to do the sorts of things the Captain's own combat recordings had shown all of Vanguard.

"Let's get lunch." Hilde shot up to her feet, pulling Ricardo off the ground by his right hand as she did. "Good work everyone!" she called out to the rest of participants in the training exercises. Normally, Kindle would be alongside her, the two generally running the physical training programs as a team. Currently he was stuck in Medical, awaiting the parts needed for an extensive overhaul of his body.

"Whoa whoa whoa, gimme a sec," Ricardo groaned as Hilde dragged him away from the rest of the group, towards the nearest set of double exit doors.

They were barely outside of the training hall when Hilde pushed him against the wall of the corridor, leaning down to kiss him on the lips.

"HmmMmm?" he asked.

"Mmm," she replied. They stayed there like that, pressed against eachother, ignoring the world around them for a long moment. Once they parted, she pulled away from him suddenly, turning her back to him.

"So that just happened," Ricardo breathed. "Not that I'm complaining. Was that lunch?" He was failing to suppress the grin on his face quite badly.

"You're cute, all ragged like that. Oh, and your heart rate is still pretty high after that final drill, you're obviously hurting from avoiding your morning runs."

"First of all," Ricardo began, "running sucks, I hate it and want it to go away. Secondly, you were beating me into submission for the last hour. 'Course my heart's gonna be beating like a jackhammer."

"Yeah, about that." She turned around, resting a hand gently on his cheek. "Sorry if I hurt you too much. Was I this bad when we cross trained with the Spetsnaz?"

"Training's training," he shrugged. "You're one of the best in the business, if not of all Vanguard, with the way you've got complete control of your body, even when you're throttling delicate ol' me. I think it's because you _are_ so worried about hurting your training partner."

"That doesn't answer-"

"You were gentler in the snow." She gave him a wounded look. "It's true."

"I know. Hey, I'm gonna ask you something," Hilde drew close to him again, their foreheads pressing together.

"I'm gonna listen."

"It's serious, okay?"

"Okay."

"What would I have to do to make you leave Vanguard?" She closed her eyes when she asked the question, afraid of even looking at Ricardo to see his potential reaction. "H-hypothetically."

"Age me another twenty five years so I can retire."

"Thought so." She sighed. "So there I am basically tossing you around effortlessly just now, and it occurs to me how ridiculous this must be for you. I'm even the one who told you to forget about enhancements and prosthesis, but I started to see your side of the argument."

"Well yeah, but training's training, and realistically there aren't enough enhancements available to make me stand a real fighting chance against the majority of Mavericks in close combat, you reminded me of that, remember? Besides, when I was considering the stuff…let's be honest here, I was feeling sorry for myself."

"Poor baby."

"Here's something sad for you to consider. Ready?"

"Okay." She laughed.

"So there's a part of me that thinks I ought to be the one protecting you."

"Really?" She was laughing harder now.

"Really! Despite the rather obvious differences in strength, endurance, speed, and overall ability."

"Sexist." Hilde flicked one of Ricardo's ears. "You should have a pity party with Kindle down in medical. We should go visit him, by the way."

"Ouch, on two separate levels." He rubbed the flicked lobe, which was already turning a shade of red.

"You're really not concerned at all about what we're up against?" Hilde frowned, releasing Ricardo from her grasp. "Look, we all saw what the Captain was up against in Moscow based on his recordings. We've been running simulations among us reploids, and honestly none of us would fare even half as well as well as he did. So when I'm tossing my boy around the mat like a ragdoll, it kinda got me thinkin' what these bastards would do to you."

"What would I have to do to make you leave Vanguard?" Ricardo shot back, poking her lightly on the nose. "Like you said, we all saw his recordings. Anywhere within five hundred yards of those Mavericks is a location I'd be happier knowing you weren't at."

"We could finally take that vacation if we both leave." Hilde shook her head. "You wouldn't leave unless you couldn't do your job anymore. Dumb of me to ask."

"It was, but that's part of your charm. You can whoop my ass, but you're always looking out for others whom you haven't authorized to whoop my ass, trying to keep me away from them." He put one hand on his hip, puffing out his chest and bobbing his head back while wagging a finger at Hilde admonishingly. "Nuh-uh girl, what about _my_ feelings, huh? Maybe I _want_ to get my ass kicked by Mavericks in your stead every once in a while!"

"Okay, okay, I said it was dumb of me to ask." She laughed at Ricardo's ridiculous expression. "Ohmigod, please don't shake your hips like that, you're not a male stripper."

"Yet!" he shouted triumphantly, catching the attention of everyone else in the corridor who'd been perfectly content to ignore the private heart-to-heart they'd been sharing up to that point. "We're in a pretty dumb profession when you really think about it, at least from a personal safety standpoint."

"Right." The couple began walking down the corridor, hand in hand. "Y'know, maybe it'd be easier if we both admit that we're a little intimidated over what we're up against."

"You're intimidated." Ricardo snorted. "I'm a goddamned rock, the Designated Marksman for Alpha. I ain't got time to be scared of no Mavericks."

"Are you now?" Hilde had him in a headlock in an instant, dragging him along while he laughed.

* * *

Erebus was ready to wrap up his debriefing. His terse but detailed account of events on Jeju-do and in Moscow had been met with looks of disbelief. However, the footage of Jeju-do, the meetings with Arseny and the Russian presidential cabinet, the devastation of Moscow, and the encounter with the Mavericks at the Bolshoi was more than enough to silence any criticism or doubt. The audacity Erebus had shown just going to Russia in the first place had concerned them, and the intensity of the fighting had frightened them. It wasn't every day that humans got to see combat from the perspective of a reploid. While the battle to Erebus had felt like it had dragged on for hours, to a human it looked as though it was occurring almost too fast to follow at times. The footage wasn't entirely uncut, but he'd managed to successfully disguise the edits as recording errors due to the severity of the damage he had sustained. Certain things he did not feel the US government needed to know.

"I believe my encounter with the Mavericks in Jeju-do and Moscow confirms several things about their capabilities and their involvement in recent events. We've confirmed their means of transport, and I have been actively working with the Maverick Hunters to determine their current location. We know that at the start of these events, they apparently numbered less than a hundred, though our own records of missing 2nd RSF units can no longer be considered reliable. Of the one thousand Mavericks involved in the September rebellion, the remains of six hundred-fifteen were only reasonably capable of being reconstructed for physical confirmation, the rest either surrendered, were recovered whole, or went missing. I want to say ninety-seven probable targets, give or take anywhere from twenty to thirty due to combat losses or unreliable data.

Most importantly, we now know that the Mavericks are nuclear capable. The MIRV in Moscow was a Dong Feng 42, one of six warheads. Chinese manufacturer, I'm estimating it dates back to the 2040's, recent refurbished, likely stolen from a stockpile during disarmament. Normally, a Broken Arrow would be reported at least privately to governments worldwide, but the Chinese have no reason to do so if they don't even know it's missing. This is well within Nike's skillset. I believe she, and her contacts among the greater Maverick movement, gained access to the warheads fairly recently."

"Greater Maverick movement," Culverson repeated. "You refer to Sigma."

"The Maverick Vile was located on Jeju-do, personally defeated by Mega Man X, though it is to my understanding that Vile survived the encounter. His presence indicates the involvement of Sigma's own irregulars and explains the resources the traitors were able to acquire. For all their skills and capabilities, they need resources. It's what I would do in their position."

There was no mistaking the tone in Erebus' voice when he referred to the Mavericks as traitors. That is what they were, as far as the United States was concerned. Traitors to those who created them, those they were sworn to protect. They were nothing more than terrorists, rabid dogs to be hunted down and euthanized.

They were much more than traitors to Erebus.

"What is your next course of action?" President Souther asked.

"Commander X has recovered important intelligence on the nature of the enemy's transport. Once it is sorted and confirmed, we will initiate a combined strike against this vessel with the Hunters. Ideally, we end this right there and then. This should be a goldmine of intelligence, enough that neither the Chinese or Russian governments can ignore the fact that they've been duped."

"When and how this occurs will obviously be up to you," Secretary Bachmann said. "As per our agreement, our government and this cabinet does not officially recognize Vanguard as one of our own organizations. We will continue to not directly interfere with or direct your actions unless it becomes necessary as a national security affair. However, we do have some concerns regarding the, pardon, recovery of the Maverick remains."

"Nothing will fall into GDC or Hunter hands," Erebus replied. He meant it. "There is the issue of SKYLIGHT. I feel that the Maverick Hecatonchires' presence on that weapon platform since the aftermath of September is the prelude to an attempt to take control of it."

"There's little we can do about SKYLIGHT for the moment," Bachmann admitted. "On paper, it's an international space station. The GDC is not currently approving any enhanced reploid security presence on it for any reasons precisely because of Hecatonchires' having used it for a hideout. The current restoration efforts have been halted, at least for now. That's the best we can expect."

"For the record, you don't know what I'm about to tell you," President Souther stated. "The United States is prepared to move against the Chinese in support our Russian allies, but the information you've given us does present significant obstacles. Namely the missing Chinese nukes. Do you believe the Mavericks have them? Could it possibly be a feint, misdirection on their behalf?"

"I have no reason to believe that they do not," Erebus said evenly. "I would advise caution. There is a distinct possibility that she will use them on US military targets, feigning Chinese retaliation against your entry into the war."

There was a phrase Erebus often read in literature about blood running cold due to the look on a person's face. He wondered if that was a good description to how he felt just then, looking at his Commander in Chief.

"We have taken nuclear retaliation into consideration when drawing up plans for such a scenario against the Chinese." Culverson cut back into the conversation. "After your stunt in New Amsterdam, the suggestion that events are indeed being manipulated by these Mavericks is now public domain, and yet this war continues unabated."

"It's not a fucking suggestion, it's the truth and you know it."

"A truth that few people in power put stock into, by the very design of said Mavericks."

Back in the medical room, Lenneth shot Erebus a confused and worried glance, mouthing him a silent warning: _That does not sound good. Watch yourself._

"Nike is a command class reploid, so a certain amount of foresight should be expected from her. Let me posit a theory to you," Culverson began. "It would not surprise me if she knows the events she's triggered are being manipulated by her victims to hopefully end in their favor. She cannot and will not use her remaining nukes because it would solve nothing. She gains nothing."

"Care to bet your life on that?" Erebus asked. He was surprised when Culverson did not respond to the bait.

"She can't nuke Russia again, that will only galvanize the rest of the non-aligned powers, and specifically AmeriCanada to act in their favor. She can't nuke China, the GDC will use that as an excuse to finally mobilize a 'coalition of the willing', and the non-aligned powers will still be forced to act. She sure as hell can't nuke everyone, she doesn't have the resources."

"And if she strikes AmeriCanada directly?"

"With Chinese warheads, easily traceable radioactive isotopes, and specific yields?" Culverson snorted, almost laughing at Erebus. "The reason Nike likely even chose such an aging warhead type was specifically so that it could easily be traced back to China. You said as much yourself. Her other options are the orbital defense grids or SKYLIGHT itself. Even as good as she is, she can't hack the orbital weapons of every nation on the planet simultaneously. Physically impossible. For SKYLIGHT, she'd need physical transportation to reach it, or she'd have to change the orbits of a dozen warp-relay satellites, without anyone noticing. She's no longer in control of the scenario she created. The world is, and everyone knows what they want." Culverson shrugged. "I can't imagine how or why you would expect anything to change even if you went public on your own with all the data you've collected. Despite Signas' little show in New Amsterdam, nearly half of the GDC is in favor of open military action against the Russians. If the GDC aren't willing to put more stock on the intel from one of their own, there's no way the world would listen to you, a 'former' comrade of those who may or may not be responsible for inciting war between two superpowers."

"The only reason nothing is changing is because you people believe there's more to gain by manipulating the situation to your favor."

"Even if that were true, she undermines her cause if she continues to up the ante with further use of WMDs. She can't possibly not see this-"

"She's not a rational actor." Erebus interrupted Culverson. "She's cornered, losing men with every encounter against stiff resistance. She will feel forced to take more drastic steps because you people insist that everything is under control, your control. You think she's only got bluster left in her, but you're wrong. Don 't call this a bluff, goddamnit-" Erebus raised his voice into a shout- "SKYLIGHT is not a bluff, she is capable of taking that satellite and turning it on the Earth! She wouldn't send one of her subordinates to the satellite alone just because they wanted to take the tour, it was prep work for something more significant! She wants to bring the entire GDC political structure and everything connected to it down on our heads!"

There was an awkward silence as the men and women of the White House stared at the reploid in Los Angeles.

"You're going to bet the lives of millions, soldiers and civilians, on a maybe," Erebus said quietly, having calmed down.

"This is hardly a gamble, and I'll thank you to not reduce us to the ranks of mere high-stakes poker players." Culverson snapped. "The onus is on her to use or not use those weapons. We can't stop her if she does decide to use them-"

"But you are prepared to take advantage of it when she does," Erebus cut the officer off, "just like the Russians and the Chinese. Are the Hunters and Vanguard the only people in the world right now actually trying to stop this?"

"It's still your word against the word of human governments. You have the misfortune of having come into this world as a reploid when humanity is still the dominant species," Culverson allowed himself a small grin. "It's not as though we could back you on any of your claims. Officially, your actions are autonomous from the US government. We can't publicly reveal that we have had a direct military presence involved throughout this affair. We could both sit for hours and surmise any number of nightmare scenarios regarding how that would get spun. You set up the rules of the game. We're only following them."

"Gentlemen, I think that's enough for now." President Souther cut in before Erebus could respond. "Thank you Erebus. Continue to keep us apprised of your own actions." With that, the connection to the White House was severed from their end.

* * *

Nothing was said in the medical bay for a long while, as Erebus, Lenneth, and Hypatia wrestled with what they'd just heard.

"What does this mean for us?" Lenneth finally asked.

"For Vanguard? Nothing. We'll keep doing what we were doing. As far as the war's concerned, it's been out of our hands probably before it even began. In the end all it really means is that everyone is screwing everybody as usual," Erebus concluded darkly. "She's only enabling it."

"You did not reveal to them the existence of the Spetsnaz in Chinese territory before the war actually began." Lenneth said carefully.

"I have a feeling that it will become common knowledge very soon. At least this way, AmeriCanada might elect to hold back based on these 'new revelations', if they actually come as a surprise. Nike did access my memory, just before I left Moscow. It's not just the Spetsnaz she's aware of now. She knows everything you and I know. Our people, our training, our tactics, available facilities. With whom I have spoken to, and about what."

"That isn't your fault."

"Tell me that when we go up against Nike's forces in actual combat."

"Knowing the specs of all our personnel does not give her a decisive advantage."

"But it is something that can be used against us. That I can't forgive, and neither should you. Perhaps I should have listened to you from the beginning; perhaps I should have been more open with you, with everyone from the start. There's a lot I have to answer for, as the last real member of the 2nd RSF."

Lenneth reached toward Erebus, wanting to offer him a comforting hand. After a moment's hesitation, she pulled back from him. He did not seem to notice, lost in his brooding. Hypatia took a moment out of her work to look at both of her commanders, shaking her head and sighing before returning her concentration to Erebus' vitals.

"I have tried to be professional about this, you understand don't you? I have tried to at the very least present the façade that all these people mean to me is just another future notch on my belt. I've wanted to keep this impersonal." Erebus said, more to himself than to anyone else. He leaned forward slightly before slamming the back of his head against his bed, flattening the cushioning material. "Look at what my former comrades have done to me, and what I've done to them. Old friends, war buddies, none of that matters anymore. All that matters is the clean-up."

"It's only human," Lenneth's voice was low, afraid to offend her fellow commander, "to want an alternative."

"I don't want an alternative," Erebus replied. "If anything, I am looking forward to retiring them all, more than ever."

"I see…"

"It's not too late to start talking, is it?" Erebus asked tiredly

"You saved me from potential repurposing or deactivation. Thanks to you, I've discovered reserves of patience I did not know I possessed, so the answer is no. It is definitely not too late." Lenneth smiled warmly. "I am a good listener, if you'll allow it. So talk to me about it. Tell me about what happened to you in 2125."

"Nothing that was physically demanding, I'd have preferred that." His eyes looked out the window to the city he'd called home since he'd given up the military life. His voice had grown raspier, taking on a distinct southern accent. "I think we all would have."

"Ohmigawd…" Hypatia buried her face into one of her palms. "Should I leave until you've finished channeling Clint Eastwood?"

"Whatever works fer ya, Hyp." Erebus gestured to the empty chair next to Lenneth. Both she and Hypatia sighed.

"I'm serious, Erebus," Lenneth insisted. "I have never been allowed access to the complete file on the 2nd RSF involvement in Rwanda. You're the only person I can ask about it. You obviously blame yourself for what Nike has done, but you've not explained what you're actually at fault for doing."

"It's complicated. Knowing what I've been keeping to myself isn't going to change what we have to do in the end."

"I want to know why our units ended up so different. We served with distinction, with pride, but the 2nd RSF went Maverick. If my old unit hadn't been disbanded, we would have continued to serve the country." Lenneth's head dipped down as she studied her feet with sudden intensity. "There's little physical variation between members of both units-"

"None any place it counts."

"I am a loyal soldier, but so were your comrades. It just concerns me that such things occurring within my brothers and sisters are actually possible….so I'd like to try and understand what drove them to do what they've done."

"I said it's complicated…but I suppose it couldn't hurt to actually talk about it. Maybe I _need_ to talk about it." Erebus switched back to the southern drawl. "It'll take awhile, y'know. Yer awright with that?"

"Well Mr. Eastwood, you are currently on a maintenance cycle." Lenneth's face noticeably brightened, clasping her hands together and sitting up straighter in her seat. She looked as though she'd won a battle of some sort. "I'm sure Hypatia would be interested as well. We're waiting for you to begin."

"Well, if you're already waiting…" Erebus looked thoughtful for a long moment. "Some other time it is, then." He grinned while Lenneth sputtered an unintelligible reply before settling on glaring beam-daggers at him.

"You're such a troll." Hypatia slapped her Captain across his face.

_**The Wrath of Olympus**_

**South China Sea**

**December 18th, 2133 4:32AM Local **

Admitting that there was a problem with the plan had been easy, and Nike knew that she'd been the problem.

She knew that her own ego had gotten the best of her when she'd confronted Erebus on the 12th, she'd declared victory well before it could be confirmed. China and Russia both remained states with functional, arguably rational governments making decisions, decisions that included not wiping each other off the face of the planet. In one sense, she was actually elated to see that against the odds, a pair of governments had managed to decide against unleashing Armageddon against each other. Perhaps the cynicism that had consumed her and the other survivors of the 2nd RSF was unfounded to a degree.

Of course, there was the fact that she knew what Erebus knew, what he'd disseminated to Signas so he could offer it to the GDC. While the greater organization struggled with drafting a unified response, it made certain that China or Russia would not press their luck further than they already had. So long as neither side could count on reinforcements, conventional warfare would have to do.

There were other problems with the plan that, in retrospect, should have been dealt with more decisively.

Erebus and his little Vanguard initiative was something she'd only recently become more intimately informed of. She'd had made some educated guesses at their capabilities, but her 'dive' into Erebus' consciousness had truly opened her eyes to the full scope of the organization. Realistically, their greatest weakness was that they had no-one capable of matching up to Nike, much less a full Maverick Hunter Navigator, on the electronic battlefield. That had never been the organizations focus. Vanguard was meant only to take direct action based on the intel gathered by other organizations, with minimal interference and red tape. Effectively, they were allowed to take whatever actions they saw fit in order to bring down their targets so long as they didn't do anything that couldn't be swept under the rug easily. As long as the organization existed, and Nike was at large, they would likely never stop seeking her and her people.

Their other great weakness had been numbers, but Nike's sister commander in the now disbanded 1st RSF, Lenneth, had recently donated herself and fifty of her best to Vanguard. They'd become a proper foil to the Few, a tenacious guard dog that refused to give up the chase now that it knew the scent of its target.

Then there was the Maverick Hunters themselves. Vile had suggested she use one of the warheads on MHHQ New Tokyo, but she'd refused to take that plan seriously. He'd again insisted on unleashing the weapons in Jeju-do to maximize casualties, and even offered to "wear" a nuke to his eventual confrontation with X, but was again turned down. She simply did not trust him with that level of power, and now wished that he'd given her a reason to do so. When Nike had been another soldier of the US military, she had respected the capabilities of the Hunters, but did not find them particularly fearsome, and that mindset had not changed.

Even the living legends of X and Zero had limits. They were hardly indestructible or invincible, as mortal as any machine could be. They could be overwhelmed. They could be beaten, outmaneuvered, outfought, and outthought.

At least, that was what she believed.

Eliminating the Hunters in New York had resulted in New Tokyo splitting its forces to cover the gap, and while the blow they'd struck had been tangible, it was far from properly effective. Hecatonchire would never say as much to her, but had she truly possessed the conviction she often spoke of, MHHQ New Tokyo and New York should have been the rubble at the center of two very large craters.

In her small virtual world that overlooked the Earth, lists of potential targets were illustrated by photographs and videos opened across hundreds, then thousands of translucent windows. Casualty estimates accompanied each location. With the five remaining nukes in their possession, they still technically had a distinct advantage. Five nuclear devices used in the right place could kill tens of millions worldwide. But that would not fix her current predicament. The fact that her organization could be somehow linked to any of the events that had transpired in the last month would likely fuel a worldwide backlash against reploids as a whole, but that would be considerably muted compared to what would happen in the aftermath multiple nuclear strikes.

The globe before her completed one more rotation before pausing over a nexus of light named New Amsterdam. Slicing through the network and the myriad defenses that presented themselves to her with practiced ease, Nike considered a small sphere that hovered before her digital avatar, looking for something that she knew the world did not know just yet. A representation of all the data Nike had taken from Erebus when she'd incapacitated him at the Bolshoi, it was only after careful analysis of that data sphere that she'd learned why her victory had not yet been assured. She also learned that there was still a way to turn things in her favor, a way for her to achieve 'victory conditions'.

It was admirable of Erebus to have tried to hide Russian presence on Chinese soil well before the shooting had officially begun. He'd kept it as secret as possible. Other than the Russian government officials who'd revealed the information to Erebus personally, he'd only told Lenneth. Not even Signas was privy to this. That was likely deliberate, to help him deliver such a convincing performance at the Security Council meeting. As of the moment she'd gained access to his mind, he had not even revealed that knowledge to his handlers, and he likely intended to keep it that way. Despite everything, he was still loyal to his country. No matter how much he danced around the subject, no matter how often he told Lenneth in private conversations that his interest was only in stopping the war, only in stopping the Mavericks, his nation of birth was worth fighting and lying for. He would give AmeriCanada a chance to react to the scandal for itself, a chance to stay out of the war and avoid further escalation.

And it would be a scandal. How else could those Chinese energen facilities be destroyed? Surely the Russians could have done it with their special forces, they'd just attempted those same tactics during the early hours of the war proper, and yet they still had not come forward with the supposed "hard evidence" that fingered the Chinese for the attack on the Ural Mountains facility.

Nike always did love an earnest, hardworking man. Even if they were ultimately going to lose, there was something about the way they struggled that felt more meaningful to her than the efforts of someone who was fated to succeed.

**China**

**23 Miles from the Sino-Russian Border **

There were survivors of the 8th OSN detachment in the aftermath of the disastrous raid on the facility in Wangqing. Battered and bruised, they numbered only thirty. They'd had no time to retrieve the fallen in their battle to escape the wrath of the Chinese reploids assigned to guard the facility, but the armored suits the Spetsnaz had worn would have seen to the disposal of the corpses.

Things had gone to hell as soon as the teams were detected. Not one of the troops assigned to infiltrating the subterranean facilities had managed to join their brothers on the surface. If they hadn't died in the fighting that erupted once the reploids had made their presence felt, they likely perished when Colonel Fyodor's request for orbital artillery had annihilated the entire base. The colonel himself was dead, succumbing to wounds sustained two days prior, having likely died cursing himself for having to have made such a terrible decision days before.

In one respect, the mission could be considered a success. The Spetsnaz had seen to the destruction of the entire Wangqing facility via the orbital bombardment. On the other hand, they'd been unable to confirm if the target scientists had been in the area, the scientists that had been one of the primary reasons why they had been sent to the facility to begin with. The reploids that the 8th OSN had also been targeting turned out to be significantly harder targets to kill, particularly when they were actively resisting.

The armored suits had performed as advertised. It had given them a fighting chance against the reploids, but it had only been a chance. It was no guarantee of success. The machines were simply too fast, even for the relatively enhanced humans. At ranges beyond a hundred meters, the reploids could detect and evade a mag-rifle shot handily, making it so that the repeated battles ensuing from the failed raid had to be fought at close range to guarantee kills. They were too strong, their pilebunkers and vice-like grips overwhelming in hand to hand combat, defeating the meager protection afforded by the suits with ease, and this was not counting the readily accessible plasma weapons built into the reploid's frames.

Adrenaline kept the fear suppressed somewhat, along with the combat stims. In the moments of peace and quiet, when they moved without harassment from the Chinese, the surviving Spetsnaz could see the featureless, black facebowl helmets of the reploids every time they blinked their eyes. Many saw other images more horrific.

The reploids hadn't been alone in their pursuit of the retreating Russians. Mixed in among them were human regulars, survivors of a motor-rifle regiment that had been assigned to the defense of Wangqing. They were less of an issue in nearly every respect save for their numbers. The enemy was seemingly uninterested in trying to capture the Russians, and the Spetsnaz had standing orders to avoid it if at all possible. It made the firefights over the last few days particularly brutal.

They hadn't been abandoned. Oleg Morozoy had told himself this repeatedly in the days after he'd lost his own squad. The seven men that had been with him when the operation had begun all died during the initial retreat. Colonel Fyodor had reorganized the survivors into new teams, and he'd found himself thrust a new command role after the officer had died. There was no one else to take up the mantle; Morozoy was the last squad leader still alive.

They hadn't been abandoned, but the only help available to them now was in orbit, and stopped being of the artillery variety twenty hours ago It wasn't possible to sustain an EM field to deny warp-ins, but every eighteen hours, a number of satellites in low Earth orbit would be in position to project a field that would at least protect them from a surprise attack from above. During that three hour window, the Spetsnaz grabbed what rest they could in fitful shifts. The Chinese were not stupid, they knew that an EM field indicated that their targets were somewhere within a set territory. The Russians were exhausted, running on a cocktail consisting of minutes of sleep and combat stimulants, but morale was surprisingly high. There wasn't a lot of time to dwell on the friends they lost, but they could feel pride at their own efforts. Realistically, the entire detachment should have been dead.

According to their most recent round of intel briefs, they were currently retreating towards a weakened portion of the Chinese assault. Their direct push towards Vladivostok had failed to make significant headway after their initial successes gave way to horrific losses that exceeded projections. Anti-driver defenses deployed by both armies did prevent a number of mass-driver lances from striking their targets, such systems were far from perfect, only able to be used from prepared positions that would be subject to repeated air and orbital strikes. The Chinese manned their counter-driver systems with reploids, the Russian equivalent was remote controlled, neither of which could be considered mobile. With one of the most important portions of their offensive bogged down, the Chinese were hoping to succeed further north, in hopes of cutting off the city and a significant portion of its defenders off from the rest of the Russian military.

While running straight for the border did not sound much safer, the closer the Spetsnaz were, the more likely they would be within reach of any fast extraction craft the Air Force could spare. There'd been attempts to extract the survivors further in Chinese territory, but there'd been no successes at getting aircraft to the Spetsnaz. The small forests of trees both real and treeborg in nature were no doubt laced with surveillance systems, which was giving the Chinese ample information on where Russians were headed. They were probably intercepting the extraction craft before they could get close. The enemy had quickly caught on to what the Spetsnaz were doing, using the satellite cover to mask and secure their movements. The reploids were fast enough on foot to negate that factor somewhat, but it had been as costly to them as it had been to their quarry.

They were six miles away from the first of the indicated extraction points, Hill 3429 according to their maps. It wasn't much of a hill, but it gave them the best position to observe the surrounding farmland. The Hill was at the center of a small town, though recent intelligence suggested that the civilian population had been evacuated after one of the Russian extraction polycraft had crash landed on the Hill after a run in with local air defenses. The Spetsnaz team was to secure the crash site, and make use of the supplies on from the wreckage to try and hold the Hill, while the Air Force sent as many polycraft as they could to try and blast open a safe air-corridor and get their people extracted to safety. Simple, not easy, but definitely simple.

Morozoy fought the urge to split the remaining men into smaller teams and spread out across a wider area. If the enemy struck in force, he wanted as many people on hand to focus their firepower if and when the time came. And it would.


End file.
